


No More What Ifs

by rainbowdoves



Series: Day Dreaming [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (actual sexual content but in a separate work), Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Conversations, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Language, POV First Person, Reconciliation, Underage Drinking, only his mom though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 67,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29770005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowdoves/pseuds/rainbowdoves
Summary: After months of mutual pining, George and Clay finally revealed their feelings for one another. Now they're coming into their senior year with little to no issues - until certain people can't leave well enough alone. Will their relationship survive the tension?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Day Dreaming [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187900
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	1. Author's Note

This book is a sequel. It is highly encouraged that you read that book first to understand characters, events, and other aspects of this book.

This book is a work of fiction. If either George or Dream is uncomfortable with it or fanfiction in general, I'll take it down without hesitation. I am aware that they've said they're okay with it, but they are entitled to change their mind. What's also fiction is the events, relationships, and personalities of characters (primarily Dream/Clay and George). Please do not use this (or other fanfictions) as a way to harass them or ask if they are dating. I would hate it if this ship became a source of separation between them, as they have a truly special friendship. Please remember that they're real people and have real relationships!

This book is, for lack of a better word, spicier than its predecessor. There will be more inappropriate jokes and references to sexual activity, and there will be implied sex. However, there is NO explicit smut.*

Any TWs will be listed at the top of the chapter they are included in as well as the way to skip it.

*(There is a separate work on my profile titled Chapter 7.5 that is explicit smut and is what happens here. However, I separated it because as someone in my Wattpad comments put it, smut is like a car crash. You can't look away and then you'll be traumatized by it.)


	2. Nothing Will Go Wrong

"Clay."

I was jolted out of my dream by someone saying my name. I opened my eyes drearily, wondering where the voice came from.

"You gotta get up, babe."

The voice was George, my amazing boyfriend of about a year and a half. He was shaking me awake with a slight smile on his face.

"Isn't it Saturday?" I groaned, haphazardly reaching out a hand for my boyfriend.

He grabbed my hand, stroking my thumb affectionately. "Yeah, but your dad made breakfast."

I just now realized that I was in my own house and bed. Normally, when I slept with George, we'd be at his house, but yesterday, he visited my house for the first time in about 8 years. We spent a lot of last night goofing off and cuddling before eventually falling asleep together, no socks allowed.

"What time is it?" I yawned.

"It's 9."

"That's too early."

"Whatever you say," George said, shaking his head. "Now, get up before I carry you downstairs."

"Fiiine." I threw off my blanket and sat up, turning to get out of bed. I made my way to my dresser and grabbed whatever was on top of the drawer, which happened to be a pair of shorts and a green t-shirt.

George came up behind me and tossed his arms around my shoulders, nuzzling his head into my neck. I hummed, grabbing his wrist and running my fingers along his. He leaned his head up for a kiss, which I obliged to, pecking him on the nose.

I broke away from him, instead grabbing his hand to lead him downstairs. As we passed the many doors of my upstairs, George looked around in awe.

"I still can't get over how big your house is, Clay," he said.

_Well, it was good for avoiding my mom._

I shrugged. "There's bigger houses."

"Yeah, but... this is still impressive."

We continued walking, carefully going down the stairs and into the kitchen. My dad and sister were already there, and my dad, being a pretty good cook and baker, made pancakes.

"This looks good," George commented, sitting down on one of the empty chairs by the kitchen island.

"Thank you, George. Clay, could you get out some plates for everyone?"

"Okay." I went over to grab four plates from the cabinet, laying them out so my dad could put a healthy serving of pancakes on each. I helped bring them over while my sister got out the syrup, whipped cream, and powdered sugar.

"Is there any way I can help?" George offered, seeming a little uncomfortable with just sitting there.

My dad shook his head. "That's alright, George."

When everyone was served, we all took a seat and started eating. I slipped my left hand down to my side to grab George's right - since he was left-handed, he wasn't using his right hand to eat. He took my hand with a smile, squeezing it gently.

We otherwise ate in silence, George insisting on rinsing the plates and putting them in the dishwasher when we were done. Once everything was cleaned up, my sister and dad went to do their own thing and George and I sat in my living room, cuddling softly on the couch.

"What do you want for your birthday, babe?" I asked. His birthday was the day after Halloween, and since it was currently October 23rd, I wanted to start thinking about what to get him.

"Oh, you don't need to get me anything..."

"C'mon, you're turning 18. That has to be somewhat special." I had already turned 18 back in August, meaning that I was now a legal adult dating a minor. Well, I guess it sounds weird when you put it like that, but we had been dating since we were both 16 and our birthdays were only 3 months apart.

"I guess... but I'm just really bad at knowing what to ask for."

I thought for a moment. "Well, since you're turning 18... do you want any sort of toys?"

"Wh- Clay!" he giggled, punching my shoulder lightly.

I laughed, holding my shoulder in fake hurt. "Fine, fine. But I'm only half-joking."

"For real?" He seemed flustered, which made me feel a little bad. "Uh... I mean, we haven't done anything like that. A-And, um... God, this sounds so awkward, but... I want my first sort of experience to be with you, if... if that makes any sense?"

"It does," I assured him, petting his hair.

"I'll think about what I want. But don't worry about it too much."

"Okay."

George looked at his phone. "I should get going soon..."

"Noooooo," I pouted, holding him protectively.

"Hey, guys." My sister's voice rang out from behind us. I looked behind me and scowled.

"C-Cassie!"

"Clay," she responded. I rolled my eyes. She probably came to tease me about George. It wasn't anything overly rude, just normal sibling stuff. 

But then she saw that my boyfriend was on the couch with me. "Oh, um... sorry, I'll get going."

Despite her constant teasing, she got flustered when she saw George and me together. I smiled, turning my attention back to Gogy.

"Let's play some video games, babe."

He smiled adorably. "Alright. Prepare to lose."

"I haven't said what we're gonna play yet," I scoffed. "Don't get cocky."

He rubbed his face into my shoulder. "You're still gonna lose."

"Suuure." I got up, taking his hand and dragging him to the basement. It was a finished basement and we often used it for parties, but one room was designated for movies or videogame consoles. That's where I led George, and we sat down on the couch in front of the TV. That's also where we found my 5-month-old cat, who mewled happily at both of us.

"Hi baby!" George said, in a high-pitched voice.

"How are you doing, Patches?" I asked, reaching down to rub her head gently. Her fur was incredibly soft, both in her brownish upper coat and her immaculate white belly. The three of us took a seat on the couch, Patches resting her head on my thigh.

"So what are we playing?" George asked.

"Smash?"

"Sure." He grabbed a controller, as did I as I turned on my Switch and put in Smash. Patches lept off the couch, noticing we were moving around a lot. We got to the "Smash" screen, and I watched George pick out Wii Fit Trainer, selecting the blue male costume. I picked out Joker and stuck with the default outfit.

We played a few rounds, bantering playfully. We were both at about the same skill level and most of the random maps we got were decent, and the wins were pretty much equal.

One particular match was on Mementos. We both had 2 stocks left, and since we were on infinite time, the match wasn't going anywhere. When I lost my next stock, George started taking the lead pretty hard, and I, becoming desperate, started tickling him to distract him.

"Ah- Clay!" he said, wheezing. "Sto- hah!"

"No," I said, smugly. I pushed him down onto the couch gently, trying to gain the lead, but in an anticlimatic loss, I walked off the map and failed to recover.

"YES!" George said as I let up. "You can't even beat me while _cheating_."

I pouted dramatically.

"Oh, don't give me that look." He turned us over so he was now on top of me. I leaned up for a kiss and George leaned down to do the same.

Our lips met passionately, my boyfriend reaching down to cup my cheek. I wrapped my arm around his waist, bringing our waists together. He fell onto me suddenly, knocking the breath out of me. I pulled away and moved my head to the side as George started kissing down my neck. I don't think he noticed.

"Oof- George, you're squishing me!" I said, wheezing.

"Oh- Sorry!" He propped himself up on his arms, still staring down at me. We rolled over, George spooning me with thin yet strong arms. I wanted to stay like this forever, but we really couldn't. But I could at least extend it.

"Um... George, do you want to stay tonight too?" I offered.

He sighed sadly, nuzzling his face into my hair. "I really should go home. My parents are leaving tomorrow for a family reunion thing and I need to see them off."

"Really? Why aren't you going?"

"They want me to stay in school, especially since it'll be almost a month."

"What about your birthday?"

He shrugged. "They're coming back that weekend. My grandad's getting really old, so they want to spend as much time with him as they can before it becomes impossible for him to do anything."

"That's reasonable."

"But I'll visit you and stuff if it's okay with your dad. I want to stay every night, but..."

I stroked his thigh lightly. "Aw, George, why not?"

"Well, my cat can't be left alone for a few hours, let alone a month."

"Why don't you bring him?"

"I don't wanna force that on you. Plus, I don't want him and Patches fighting." The kitten in question was meowing because she wanted to be on the couch with us.

Picking her up, I said, "Um... Well, I can talk to my dad, if you want. I'm sure he's fine with it." I was actually certain he was fine with it - once I moved back in, he vowed to return the favor George's parents extended and always be willing to have him over.

George sat up on the couch again, cradling my head on his lap. "Only if you're okay with it. I wouldn't want to stay for the whole month, though. Just... maybe this week?"

"Got it. I'll ask him."

We stared at each other for a moment before I turned my attention back to Smash. The game was still on the victory screen as I reached over to turn it off. George and I got up and together, we went upstairs.

He started pulling on his hoodie that he had left by the front door. "Thanks, Clay. That was fun."

"Of course, Gogy." I put my arms around him for a warm hug. We both pulled our heads back for a kiss, making out softly. He put one hand on my waist while bringing the other through my hair. I kept my arms around his shoulders, rubbing his back gently.

After a minute or two, we broke apart. George's brown eyes sparkled in the natural light coming through the window as we gazed into each other's eyes.

With a sad smile, he sighed, "Bye, Clay. I love you."

"I love you too, babe. Drive safely." I pecked him on the cheek again and watched as he turned to go out the front door. I heard the whir of his car engine as he drove away, leaving me to go back to my room with little idea of what to do.

Later, I was helping to clean up dinner by cleaning up the dishes. My sister already went upstairs, so I took a deep breath before approaching my dad about George.

"Um, Dad?" I asked nervously.

"Yes?"

"Would George be able to stay over this week? With his cat?"

"Oh, of course," he agreed. "Do you need the spare mattress or are you sleeping together?"

I let out a breath I had been holding, relieved. "I think we'll be fine sleeping together."

"Alright. And his parents are okay with it?"

"I think so," I nodded. "They're going out for a while for a family thing, but they want George to stay for school."

"Ah. I see. Well, I'll talk with his parents and double-check, but for the record, I'm perfectly fine with it."

"Thanks, Dad."

"No problem, Clay."

I returned upstairs, hopping on my computer. George and I's mutual best friend, Nick, offered to play Minecraft together with the three of us. We all agreed and logged onto a new world. Being Minecraft veterans, we took a long time deciding what to do; survival, creative, or just leave and play on a server.

"Hey, George, didn't you say that you were working on plugins in your free time?" Nick suggested.

George stuttered. "O-Oh, yeah. I guess."

"Why don't we try those?"

"They're... not that good, really," he mumbled.

"I'm sure they're fine, George," I cooed. "What things have you made?"

My support seemed to reinvigorate him. "Well, I've done... something that sort of improves our hunter game. It should work with all of us."

"That's so cool!" Nick said. "You up for it, Clay?"

I nodded, despite them not being able to see me. "Of course. Let's do it, Georgie."

"It might not work..."

"Can't know 'til you try," I encouraged.

"I guess not. Alright, give me a few minutes." I heard some clicking from his keyboard as he worked on adding it. Soon, I saw a compass appear in Nick's and George's hands, the needles pointing at me.

"Wow, that's- how did you do this!?" Nick gasped, moving around and watching the needle follow me.

"It's not that hard. Definitely not professional coding level," George said, humbly.

"It's still really cool, babe," I assured him. Nick giggled - he was completely comfortable with George and I using pet names around him, saying that he found it really cute. "So am I being hunted?"

"Yeah. Is that okay?"

"Of course. I'll still win a 2v1."

"And you were telling me not to be cocky," George scoffed. "Alright, we'll see what happens."

"It's on," Nick said.

"Well, catch me if you can!" I teased, running away to mine a tree.

"Wait- GET BACK HERE! I'M NOT READY!" George shrieked as Nick immediately started giving chase.

I was crushing them completely until I was coming back from the Nether. I had knocked Nick into lava, but George had cornered me on the edge of an elevated platform with no way to run. This was disadvantageous, especially since George and Nick could die as many times as they want, but I lose if I die once. I had no ender pearls, fire resistance potions, and no saddles to clutch a strider with.

"Wait, George-" I begged as he approached.

"What?"

"I love you!"

"I know. I love you too."

"Mhm. So... Won't you spare me?"

"Hm..."

"Please?" I said hopefully, wondering if I had actually wooed him.

"No," George said as he knocked me into the lava. I fumed, restraining myself so I didn't smash my keyboard.

"Nice one, George!" Nick cried as the message appeared in chat. "I honestly thought you were gonna fall for him."

"Well, I already fell for him about 3 years ago," George said."But I'm not losing the game to him."

I tisked. "Rude."

"Aw. Do you still love me?" George asked.

I smiled, my heart reinforcing my answer fully.

"Of course I do, George."


	3. Bad Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a TW for parental abuse. There will be a bold line marking where you should skip the chapter.

Sunday was uneventful until George came at around 8 with his cat in tow. His parents were more than happy to let George and his cat over so long as he checked up on his house every day on his way home from school, taking the mail and such. Both were happy to see me, George giving me a kiss and his cat nuzzling up against my legs with a purr.

We followed the gray cat as he approached Patches. I held my breath as they approached each other, but then they just meowed in acknowledgment of one another and went to go to cat things elsewhere. I heaved a sigh of relief, as did George.

"Glad to see they get along," he chuckled. "At least, as far as cats go."

"Yeah. You have all your clothes, right?"

"Yeah."

"Let's go upstairs, then."

Once we dropped off all of George's clothes, we decided just to fall asleep together. We had both already had dinner and school was tomorrow, so we stripped down to our underwear and cuddled into bed together.

George wrapped his arms around me affectionately and I did the same, bringing him in to my torso. Rubbing his back, I said, "'Night, Gogy."

"'Night, Clay," he mumbled. 

And as we slowly drifted off, I could feel him smile against my chest.

\--

The next morning, George, my sister, and I sat around the table having breakfast. We ate quietly, all of us too tired to really start a conversation. When we all finished and cleaned up, George grabbed my and his bags while Cassie got her own. I hopped into the driver's seat of my car as Cassie took the passenger seat and George sat in the back.

I pulled out of the driveway and started driving the three of us to school, still not talking much. The school day drudged on until science, where we had a very unwelcome pop quiz.

After a few minutes, I checked my answers to the quiz. Even though I didn't have Mrs. O'Perra last year and I thought I was free, I was wrong when I was put in her class this year. At least I got to sit next to George, which set her homophobic ass off.

A few years ago, I only had my suspicions because of how she treated George specifically, but now that he and I were openly dating, she started being especially nasty to both of us. Even in the first two months of school, she kept trying to get us in trouble for stupid things, even though we were actually pretty well-behaved for our grade.

As I went up to turn it in, she glared at me before taking it. Being the first one done, I returned to my seat to lay my head down on the desk and space out. I pulled my head up a few minutes later to see the last few people turning in their quiz and the bell ringing. One guy, who I recognized but couldn't put a name to, stood up there longer, talking to Mrs. O'Perra. 

_Why would you do that voluntarily?_ I wondered. I stood up and grabbed my bag, ready to go to my next class, but I was called up by Mrs. O'Perra. I rolled my eyes facing away from her, turning around to go up. George was also called up, meaning she must have found some other reason to get us in arbitrary trouble.

"Both of you, see me at lunch on Wednesday," she ordered.

"Why?" George asked.

"I'll tell you then. Now go to your next class."

My boyfriend looked at me in exasperation before saying, "Yeah, okay." 

I nodded in agreement, and just to stick it to her, George and I walked out holding hands.

"Wonder what she's gonna try to pin on us today?" I sighed, running my thumb along his knuckles.

"I dunno," he shrugged. "But I wish we could get her fired."

I shook my head. "We only have to worry about her for another year. I don't think it's worth the effort."

"Yeah, but what about the next gay couple this school has? Or any other LGBTQ+ people, like Alex and Bad?"

"They're not dating anymore, though." Though they did go to prom together at the end of last year, neither of them felt ready for an actual relationship yet and they decided it would be best to split up.

"Well, yeah, but Alex is still enby and Bad is still pan. And you've seen how she treats them."

I didn't have a rebuttal for that. "You're right, but... what can we do anyway?"

George thought for a bit, eventually coming up with nothing. "I don't know."

I checked the time. "We'll figure something out, but we have to go to math now."

"Right. See you at lunch, I guess."

"See you, George."

Math class was pretty boring. We were doing early calculus, but a lot of it was review from precalc and I remembered it all really well, so I spent most of the class doodling in my notebook while listening to the math teacher lecture us. I took down a few notes to 1. make it look like I'm not just doodling and 2. because I didn't recognize some of the terms and wanted to study them later. Finally, the bell rang, and I met up with George on our way to lunch.

"Long time no see," I joked.

He played along, giggling, "I missed you."

We continued walking down the halls as I pointed at an orange poster on the wall. "Hey, what's that about?"

"I dunno. Let's check." We stopped in front of the poster to read what it said.

Beneath it was contact information for the host of the party for any questions and for RSVP'ing.

"There's no date, but it's probably on Halloween," I stated obviously. "It's the day before your birthday... sure you want to go?"

He shrugged. "Eh, we can just leave a little early. It's no big deal."

"What's up, guys?" a deep voice said from behind us.

"Oh, hey, Dave!" I said, a little startled. Dave was also a senior and in most of my advanced classes. We're both the "smart kids" in our class according to everyone else, which made a sort of fun rivalry between us. In reality, we were actually really good friends, though not as close as someone like Nick or Bad. Right now, he had some tape and a few of the posters in his hands, meaning he was probably the host of the party. I wasn't all that surprised - his family was really well off. While my house was big, Dave's house was huge, making it great for parties.

"Hi," George waved awkwardly.

"You guys thinking of going?" Dave questioned, nodding at the poster on the wall.

"Probably. Anything extra we should know?" I asked, noting how he looked like he wanted to tell us something.

"Well, since I can't exactly advertise this at school..." His voice went low. "There's gonna be booze."

"Oh." George sounded a little intimidated.

"Don't worry, no one's gonna force you to drink. Promise," he assured George. 

"That's good," George sighed.

"Anyway, I need to finish putting these up so I can get to lunch." He held up the posters. "See you later. Make sure to RSVP if you decide to go!"

As we watched him whisk down another hallway, George and I turned back to go to the cafeteria. 

"What should we dress up as?" I wondered out loud.

"Hm... Good question. Let's ask Nick and Bad." He nodded towards the two boys who just met up in front of us, Nick with his girlfriend Emily.

"Hey, guys!" Bad said, waving. The five of us set our lunches down and started eating, chatting happily.

"You guys interested in the Halloween party?" George asked. "We're going."

"We're probably going too," Emily answered. "What're you going as?"

"I kinda want to do a couple costume thing," George suggested. "If you want, Clay."

I nodded. "That sounds like a great idea. But what couple should we do?"

"I want to steal that idea," Emily gasped, grinning. "What do you think, Nick?"

Nick just shrugged and said, "Sure."

"That's so cute!" Bad squealed. "You should both totally do that."

"But still... what costumes?" I asked.

My boyfriend giggled. "We'll figure that out later. But let's eat for now."

We all finished up our lunch and moved on to talking about our SMP world. It had grown a little since last year, now including Alex and Emily. George made himself, Bad, Alex, and me appropriate pride flag banners with a loom, and I hung mine up over my bed in my respectably sized base. We all had a ton of homework to do, though, so we couldn't play today.

After wrapping up our lunch, we all went to our next classes and finished the school day with no issue. I noticed that Dave had put up at least 2 flyers in most of the hallways I went through, meaning it was now known by a lot more people.

As I drove my boyfriend and sister back to our house, Cassie asked, "Are you guys going to go to that Halloween party thing?"

Since I was driving, George answered, "Yeah. We want to do a couple costume idea, but there's not many good ones."

"Oooh, you should do Princess Bubblegum and Marceline," Cassie said.

"What- you watched Adventure Time?" I asked, shocked.

She scoffed. "Clay, I'm only 2 years younger than you. Of course I did."

"Oh," I chuckled. "Sometimes, I still think you're, like, 13."

"I'm offended."

"Good."

"Rude."

"Yes."

George was laughing loudly in the back seat. He always said that since he never had any siblings, he found Cassie's and my interactions hilarious. I thought they were pretty normal, honestly.

I pulled into my driveway, stopping to grab the mail. George grabbed my bag for me and I opened the garage door so we could all enter.

When I set the mail down, I saw a letter addressed to me with a return address I didn't recognize. This wasn't new, since I barely knew any of my relatives' addresses. I honestly thought it was a birthday card that was really late or got lost in transit or something.

I decided to take a seat on the couch and read it, George sitting on another chair nearby and Cassie going to the bathroom. Inside was a pretty simplistic card, not looking like it was designed for any specific event. When I opened it, though, my heart dropped. Though there was no name, I could recognize the handwriting and tone immediately.

It was from my mom.

_I hope that your father kicks you out. You're such a disappointment and now you're old enough to live on your own and it's not illegal to do so._

I read the first lines over and over again, feeling sick to my stomach and refusing to continue past that. My chest felt tight and I was having trouble breathing. The letter shook in my hands as I called out the name of the one person I needed.

"G-George..."

"Clay? Clay!" He ran over to me, grabbing the letter gently and reading it. Looking disgusted, he sat down next to me, cooing, "Do you want me to hold you?"

I nodded shakily, melting into George's arms. He laid his head on top of mine and wrapped his arms around me. I felt safe in this position, like he was protecting me. 

This wasn't the first time this happened. Most of the time, I had something to trigger it, like a letter or a text, but sometimes it would just happen randomly. Luckily, I always had George by my side. He helped me calm down, and though at first, he didn't ask to hold me for fear of it being the wrong thing to do, now it was the standard way that he got me to calm down. He always asked first, though.

I let the memories flow over me, bracing myself against George's chest...

**Flashback: Contains homophobic language and child abuse. Please skip the rest of the chapter if you are sensitive.**

* * *

_"Where were you?"_

_Her voice was harsh. She was obviously angry._

_"I..."_

_"I bet you were at that faggot's house! I thought I told you to not mess with him? He'll corrupt you! Turn you gay!"_

_I clenched my fist. "No, Mom-"_

_"That's enough. Since you clearly don't appreciate the shelter I give you, why don't you sleep outside? If he turned you gay, maybe that'll help you realize that you're no better than a dog."_

_"Shut up!" I cried, tears streaming down my face. "You're wrong!"_

_"Normal boys don't cry! I will not be housing a faggot under this roof! Get out!"_

_She grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, dragging me out the door and locking it as she turned her back to me. I leaned back against the wall of my house, curling up and sobbing loudly. I wanted to call George, but... she'd hear me, wouldn't she?_

_George, I..._

"I love you, George," I mumbled.

"I love you too, Clay," he responded, cuddling me tighter. 

And then I remembered I wasn't alone. That I had George with me. My breathing slowed a little bit and I relaxed my shoulders. Patches seemed to sense something was wrong and tried to get in between us, rubbing her head against my leg. George's cat curled up against his owner, meowing quietly.

"...Thanks," I said meekly.

"Don't worry, Clay. Did you get it all out?"

I sniffed. "Yeah."

And when he held me tighter, I knew I was safe.


	4. I Do Adore

George held me for a little while, occasionally brushing my hair softly. When she came back from the bathroom, Cassie seemed to realize what happened and took the letter from George, ripping it up and tossing it in the garbage before politely leaving us alone.

Eventually, my breathing returned to normal and I pulled back, grabbing George's hand from my back and bringing them in front of us. He ran a finger across the back of my hand, smiling.

"You feeling better?" he asked.

"Yeah. Thanks so much."

"Of course. I'm always here for you."

I turned around so I was now sitting in his lap. Patches jumped up onto my own lap, curling up to me affectionately. George's cat settled with snuggling between my leg and the couch. 

Scratching my cat's head absentmindedly, I asked, "What do you want to do now?"

"You sure you've rested enough?"

"Yeah."

"In that case, why don't we work on choosing a costume pair?"

"Okay." Not wanting to disturb the cats, I took out my phone, feeling George rest his head on my shoulder to browse with me. I opened the Google app and searched "couple costume ideas."

The top result was pretty meh, even though it was a gallery of 80 costumes. Most of them were really boring, and the ones that weren't boring were just ridiculous.

"Why would you even want to be a hashbrown?" George wheezed at one of the suggestions. "I mean, they taste good, but... for WHAT reason?"

"I dunno! And why a couple of hashbrowns? How is that special?"

The rest of the list was just as awful as the pair of hashbrowns, meaning that this website wasn't going to be of much use. We scrolled through some other results, but none of them caught our eye.

"Maybe I'll just wear a mask and call it good," I sighed defeatedly.

"Aw, I kinda want to do the couple thing though..."

"But do you have any ideas?"

"Well... I don't mean to make any weird ships or anything, buuuuuuuut..."

"Oh my God, George. What's your idea?" I rolled my eyes.

"Jessie and James from Pokémon."

"Hey, I like that idea. I have a Pumpkaboo plush we can use." I was really into stuffed animals when I was younger, and I still have a good majority of them in my room.

"Really? That's adorable!"

"Yeah. But can I be James? I don't really want to crossdress..."

"Of course. I'm fine with it, and I honestly think I'd look cute in a crop top."

"Nah, I'd look better."

"What?"

"I mean, I can show off my rock-hard abs."

"I- You're such an idiot." 

"But I'm your idiot," I grinned. 

"And I'm happy about it." Stroking my hair gently, he snaked his hands under my shirt, rubbing my abdomen softly. I giggled, putting my palm on the back of his hand as he playfully pulled my shirt up a little bit.

We sat like that for a while before we continued our conversation.

"What are we gonna do about hair?" George wondered aloud.

"Hm... Let's ask Alex. They do cosplay, right?"

"That's probably a good idea."

I opened Discord and opened up my DMs with Alex, cringing at the mobile format.

 **dream** _Today at 3:28 PM_  
hey um  
do u think you could help george and I with halloween costumes

 **🟡⚪straight as a circle🟣⚫** _Today at 3:28 PM_  
ofc  
what do you need help with?

 **dream** _Today at 3:28 PM_  
only hair rly

 **🟡⚪straight as a circle🟣⚫** _Today at 3:28 PM_  
who are u guys going as?

 **dream** _Today at 3:28 PM_  
im going as james and george is going as jessie  
from pokemon

 **🟡⚪straight as a circle🟣⚫** _Today at 3:29 PM_  
ooh  
let me look those guys up hold on  
ok  
would you rather do hair dye or a wig?

 **dream** _Today at 3:29 PM_  
which is easier

 **🟡⚪straight as a circle🟣⚫** _Today at 3:29 PM_  
george's hair is def too short so he'd need a wig  
and actually james's hair is a weird ish color for dye so  
so would u

 **dream** _Today at 3:29 PM_  
ok

 **🟡⚪straight as a circle🟣⚫** _Today at 3:29 PM_  
hold on let me find you guys some

 **dream** _Today at 3:29 PM_  
don't worry about it  
i just wanted your advice

 **🟡⚪straight as a circle🟣⚫** _Today at 3:30 PM_  
nope  
i already found something for both of you

Alex posted two Amazon links for a long pink wig and a short bluish purple wig, both being reasonably priced.

 **dream** _Today at 3:30 PM  
_ tysm alex

 **🟡⚪straight as a circle🟣⚫** _Today at 3:30 PM_  
ofc  
lmk when yall get the wig so i can style it for u

 **dream** _Today at 3:31 PM  
_ ok  
tysm

 **🟡⚪straight as a circle🟣⚫** _Today at 3:31 PM  
_ mhm!  
gtg byeee

 **dream** _Today at 3:31 PM_  
byeeee

"I should probably go order everything, huh?" I asked, putting my hand on George's thigh.

"Okay. I'll sit with the cats."

I gently got off of George, moving Patches to sit on his lap. She mewled a little confusedly before deciding to curl up on the spot. George's cat stayed where he was, his tail laying against the couch. 

"Awwww," I cooed, my heart melting. I pecked George on the forehead before going up to my room to buy the stuff.

I got the costumes for both of us as well as using the two links Alex gave me for the wigs. Luckily, with Prime, everything was coming in 2 days, meaning it'd arrive in time. We wouldn't have a chance to buy anything else if they didn't work out, though.

Once I completed the order, I returned downstairs to cuddle with George some more, but the cats already doing that foiled my plan. I instead decided that I might as well do my homework. Even though I could get a lot of it done at school, some of the work was just impossible to do quickly enough.

George saw me getting my stuff out and called, "You doing homework, Clay?"

"Yeah. Wanna join?"

"Okay. What about the cats?"

"Normally I let her outside. Wait, does your cat like the outside?"

"He does, but he gets warm really easily so I can't leave him out for long."

"It's like 79 out now. I think he'll be fine."

"Alright." 

"Hey, Cassie?" I yelled.

"Yeah?" she responded from somewhere else in the house.

"We're letting the cats out." I always let her know so that if I was doing something else and couldn't see the door, she could let Patches (or in this case, Patches and George's cat) in if they looked like they wanted to come in.

"'Kay."

George finished getting his stuff out of his bag and sat down next to me. "What do you have to do first?"

"Some calculus."

"Do you think you could help me? I don't really get some of it..." He looked away bashfully, making me smile.

"Of course." I put our papers together and helped George work out some of the problems, showing him how to do them along the way to help him learn. He eventually got the hang of it and we started working, calculators in front of us. It was quiet, which I didn't really like.

"Do you wanna listen to music?" I asked, stretching.

"Sure."

"Any preferences?"

"I'm fine with anything you'd like, honestly."

"Okay." I pulled out my phone and opened Spotify, playing my general playlist and shuffling. We worked for a while with the music, occasionally humming along to some songs. Time seemed to pass quickly as I worked through most of the problems before switching to a different subject.

Just as I finished my work, one of my favorite songs came on. It was a cute little romantic song that always reminded me of George, and since I was with him, I couldn't resist singing it to him.

_"Everything you do it sends me,  
higher than the moon with every  
twinkle in your eye  
You strike a match that lights my heart on fire."_

George was smiling slightly, tapping his foot as I continued.

_"When you're near, I hide my blushing face  
_ _and trip on my shoelaces  
_ _Grace just isn't my forté  
_ _but it brings me to my knees when you say_

_'Hello, how are you, my darling, today?'  
I fall into a pile on the floor  
Puppy love is hard to ignore  
When every little thing you do,  
_ _I do adore."_

There was a small break from the lyrics as I reached out a hand for George. He turned his chair so he was facing me and smiled, taking a breath before his beautiful voice filled the room.

_"We're as different as can be  
I've noticed you're remarkably relaxed  
and I'm overly uptight  
We balance out each other nicely."  
_

I had both his hands in mine by now, our work laying forgotten on the table as he continued singing.

_"You wear sandals in the snow  
In mid-July, I still feel cold  
We're opposites in every way  
but I can't resist it when you say_

_'Hello, how are you, my darling, today?'  
I fall into a pile on the floor  
Puppy love is hard to ignore  
When every little thing you do,  
_ _I do adore."_

We both had huge grins plastered across our faces. George was blushing lightly, and I bet I was too. I pulled him closer, our noses touching softly as the song continued cheerfully. I moved my hands towards his waist, gently moving to kiss him. We melted into each other's grasp, making out past the rest of the song.

When we finally broke apart, George looked at the work on the table.

"Oh. Sorry about that," I giggled.

"It's fine. I love that song. It's so cute." He bit his lip bashfully. "It... um... it reminds me of you."

"It reminds me of you too."

I rested my head on his shoulder, hugging him tightly. I saw him look at his work, sighing, "Wonder how Mrs. O'Perra is gonna get us this time?"

"We're not getting in any trouble. I promise."

"But how can you promise that?"

"'Cause I'm smart."

"Mmm, I wouldn't say that."

"Rude," I wheezed, kissing down his neck teasingly. He laughed like he was being tickled and we eventually both calmed down.

"I'm pretty much done with this work, anyway," he said. "Let's go do something else."

"What do you want to do?"

"Cuddle."

"Same." I put all my homework away, taking George's hand to lead him upstairs. On the way, I let Patches and George's cat in, both of them going to eat some of their food.

We flopped onto my bed, laying sideways as George spooned me, his breath tickling my neck. I closed my eyes, resting happily in his arms.

I'm so lucky to have him.


	5. The Next Step

Tuesday morning passed by lazily. After a pretty mundane breakfast, I drove George and me to school while Cassie took her own car because she had a club today. We drudged out of the parking lot and into the school building, going to our respective homerooms and first periods. I later helped George finish his work in our free period, meaning he was now all caught up. When it was time for Science, we took our usual seats next to each other. Our desks each had an upside-down paper on them. I flipped mine over, assuming that it was the pop quiz we took yesterday.

As it turned out, it was, but to my dismay, on the top was a "0" written in red pen and the note "See me Tuesday at lunch." I rolled my eyes and looked at George, who nodded at his paper. He had the same things written at the top of his paper as well. There were no marks on the paper besides that - no incorrect answers, no corrections, nothing.

As Mrs. O'Perra started her idiotic lecture, I whispered to George, "Didn't she want to see us on Wednesday, though?"

He nodded, still looking at the front. "Yeah. Wonder why she changed it."

"Eh, whatever. Let's just get it over with as quickly as possible."

"Agreed."

The class itself wasn't that bad, though at the end, she called us up and made sure we knew about the change. She seemed a little jittery like she was nervous about it somehow. After confirming, she waved us away to go to our math classes.

George and I met up after Math again, dejectedly turning to go to the science classroom. The halls were empty, so our hands naturally slipped together to spite Mrs. O'Perra when we walked in. As we turned a corner, though, we nearly ran into the last person we'd want to bump into - Ms. Mansell. 

She was the most menacing teacher at our school, and she wasn't even an actual teacher - she was the vice principal. Unlike Mrs. Blaire, who got her respect by being a nice person, Ms. Mansell earned her respect like a military general. She was the fastest to hand out punishments. Granted, they were always valid, but even small infractions that other teachers would let slide with a warning would result in detention from her. The worst part was that you wouldn't expect this if you had just met her - she always had a smile on her face and was very sweet most of the time.

"Oh, hey Clay. Hey George." She beamed at us. George nervously shuffled behind me, though not completely.

I covered for him. "O-Oh. Hi, Ms. Mansell."

"Where are you two going? Isn't it lunchtime?" she asked dangerously.

Even though this was essentially a normal conversation, my heart was beating out of my chest. "Um, Mrs. O'Perra wanted to see us."

"Wasn't that meeting tomorrow?"

I wasn't lying at all, but it definitely felt like I was. "She changed it to today."

"Really? She didn't tell me. I'm supposed to be there, but I can't right now."

"Y-Yeah." I was a little confused. Why was she supposed to be there?

"Do you have any idea why?" She adjusted her grip on the binder she was holding.

"She just told us yesterday after the pop quiz and then wrote the changed date on the graded one," I answered.

"She hasn't told you? That's awfully rude. But you guys should go there. There might be another one tomorrow, for your information."

"Okay." I didn't want to argue with her, though it was really annoying that we'd be missing two lunches. She continued past us as George and I silently walked to Mrs. O'Perra's classroom. 

"Wonder why she was gonna be there?" George asked.

"Dunno. Do you think she reported us for something serious?"

"I hope not. You've already been suspended once. Anything else would probably get you expelled."

"Well, let's just get this over with and see why."

When we stepped into the classroom, we lazily sat down on the two seats in front of her desk and looked at the woman who was forcing us to be here.

"Thanks for coming," she said in an annoying tone.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Don't talk to your teachers like that. Especially when you cheat on a quiz." She must have thought she was being slick, but it was honestly just cringeworthy since we definitely did not cheat.

"What?" George asked, confused.

"Don't play dumb. You know that Clay gave you answers."

He looked flustered. "I- what? No."

"Both I and a student witnessed it."

George looked at me, baffled. Normally, she'd turn something small and stupid into a huge deal, but she'd never completely fabricated an issue before.

"But we... didn't?" I said.

"Then how can you say that you both got the same answers?"

I rolled my eyes. How could one person be so stupid? "It was a multiple choice quiz. And the written questions only had one correct answer."

"But George did far better on this quiz than usual."

Okay, what the fuck? Was she really judging George based on his academic ability, assuming he couldn't get better than in the past?

George started looking upset, which made me become protective of him. "I helped him study. Good grades look pretty great for colleges."

"But cheating doesn't."

I scoffed. "Yeah, well, we didn't cheat."

"Well... you guys sit next to each other. It'd be easy for you to just look at the other's paper."

"That's not what you said at first," I said, raising my eyebrows.

"I-I... um... but you still cheated."

Suddenly, the door opened, revealing Ms. Mansell. She waved at us, though she had lost her smile.

"I didn't know this meeting was moved today. Would it be alright if we were to continue tomorrow? I really would like to be present."

George and I heaved a sigh of relief, while Mrs. O'Perra looked like had been caught selling drugs or something. "Oh, sorry," she said, sweating bullets. "Alright, we'll continue this tomorrow."

I got up with George, relishing in our freedom. We strolled down to lunch, where Bad, Alex, Nick, Emily, and Zak were sitting.

"Hey, guys," Alex said. "Where were you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Mrs. O'Perra being stupid as usual. We have to go in again tomorrow."

"Oof. What was she trying to blame on you this time?" Nick asked, shoveling food in his mouth.

"She says we cheated on the quiz," I shrugged.

"I- what?" Nick said. "That's bull."

"Yeah," Emily agreed. "Why's she making you go in tomorrow?"

I shrugged. "Ms. Mansell wanted to be there, and it was originally gonna be tomorrow, but I guess Mrs. O'Perra changed it without telling Ms. Mansell."

"That's weird. I wonder why?" Zak asked.

Bad shook his head. "I just hope she's there to get Mrs. O'Perra fired." He'd had a vendetta against Mrs. O'Perra for a while now, though he was the last out of the group of us.

I nodded in agreement. "Me too, but I can't see why now of all times."

"Who knows? Anyway, make sure you guys eat," Alex said, pointedly. I just remembered that it was lunch, so I opened my lunch and started eating. We talked eagerly about the upcoming Halloween party, finding out who was going as what. While they all knew George and I were going as Jessie and James, we didn't know about anyone else yet. Nick and Emily had used the couple costume idea and were going as a glass of milk and a cookie, Alex was going as Hollow Knight, and Bad and Zak were going as their respective Minecraft skins.

"We're gonna be an interesting group," I chuckled. "But I'm excited to see everyone's costumes."

"Me too! I can't wait to see how everything turns out," Bad said gleefully. "I haven't worn a costume in years."

"Me neither," Zak said.

Alex shrugged. "Well, that'll make this even more interesting."

The bell rang after that, though, so we had to clean up quickly and dash to our next class. The afternoon seemed to pass by faster, probably because I wasn't dreading going to Science this time. I happily met up with George again on our way out to my car. The drive home had a little more traffic than usual, since someone got in an accident almost exactly halfway, but other than that, we got home pretty soon.

We flopped onto my bed together, our hands naturally intertwining as we laid on our sides, facing each other.

"You look really cute," he commented.

"Thanks." I smiled widely, nuzzling my head under his.

My boyfriend placed a hand on the back of my head and sighed happily. I kissed his collarbone gently, earning a little giggle out of him as he wrapped his legs around my waist. I leaned back to cup a hand to his cheek and massage his cheekbone with my thumb. He hummed appreciatively, leaning us up so he was now sitting on my lap. We sat like that for a while, putting our heads together and hugging each other tightly.

**Mildly awkward conversation about sex. Skip the rest of the chapter if this makes you easily uncomfortable.**

* * *

"Can I ask you something a little awkward?" he asked nervously.

"Sure."

"I actually... um... did want to do something for my birthday."

"Nice. What is it?"

"So you know how we've been doing, like... the sexting and the video calling?" he stuttered.

I nodded. For a few months now, we'd been sending each other less than appropriate pictures (with consent), which eventually evolved into face calling one another and... well, one can imagine.

He took a shaky breath. "Do... Do you want to take it all the way? Like... y'know..."

I immediately blushed a little, sputtering. I had thought about taking it all the way for a while myself, but never really brought it up for fear that it'd be awkward. That made me glad that it was George asking instead of me.

"Oh, um... yeah, I guess. I've been thinking about it for a while, too."

There was an awkward silence for a while as we just stared at each other. Deciding to break it, I said, "Would you... sorry, this is awkward... um... would you rather top or bottom?" I knew he was a switch and he knew I was a switch, but that meant we'd both have to decide.

"I'm fine with either."

I scoffed playfully. "I know. That's why I'm asking."

He shook his head seriously. "No, like, you can decide. I don't mind."

"Really?" I tilted my head to the side. "It's your birthday. You should decide."

"Really. You choose," he insisted.

I sighed. Since I had been thinking about this for a while, I already knew which I'd rather be the first time. 

"Fine. But promise you won't laugh at me?"

"Why would I laugh at you?"

"'Cause, it's probably not what you'd expect," I mumbled, turning pink.

"Aw, Clay." He hugged me tighter, comforting me. "Wait, what's... ohhhhh."

I nodded, embarrassed. "I... uh... want to bottom."

He chuckled. "That's fine. I'll top. One more thing, though."

"What?"

"Well, my birthday is before a school day, so... we can't really do it that night."

"Yeah. When would you rather do it?"

"What about... this Friday?"

"But you won't be 18 yet."

"It's still legal, right? The age difference is barely 3 months."

"I still dunno... we should search it." I wanted to be as cautious as possible considering how seriously law enforcement takes infractions on those types of laws. 

"I'm sure it'll be fine, but okay."

"Look, I'm not trying to go to fucking jail because you're being horny," I snapped harshly. 

He gave me a confused, hurt look. I never really lost my temper with him, so my manner must have scared him.

"Sorry, I just..." I mumbled quickly. I immediately felt guilty for snapping at him like that. "I dunno. It just kinda came out."

He shook his head apologetically. "No, Clay. It's my fault. I'm sorry I was so pushy. We don't have to do anything if you're not comfortable."

"No, no, I still want to, but... I just want to be sure, y'know?"

"That's fine."

"Let's search it up now." 

"You sure?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Promise. I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"I'm sorry I was pushy. I didn't really think about you at all."

We looked at each other awkwardly for a moment. Then I smiled. I couldn't stay upset at him for long.

"Well, let's just say apologies accepted, yeah?" I suggested.

"Yeah."

"Alright. Now get off, I need to go on my computer."

Both of us giggling, I gently pushed George off my lap and went to my computer, sitting down and opening Chrome. Since the question was a little suspicious, I went on Incognito. Even though it probably wouldn't look any better if any government agent was watching, it gave me some sense of security.

The first result was a website about laws relating to this sort of thing, and while it was outlined as illegal, there is another set of laws pretty much covering our exact circumstances. I relayed this to George, who said, "Nice. Still down for it?"

"Yep." I was leagues more comfortable now that I had searched it up, although it still was a little bit worrying. 

Ignoring that for now, I looked back at George, who was laying on my bed with his arms and legs outstretched, yawning widely. I smiled as I spun around in my chair to walk over to him.

"Move, twink," I said, collapsing on the bed next to him.

"I- You just said you'd rather bottom the first time," he said, feigning offense.

"I still do. But you're still a twink."

"Well... Wanna cuddle with this twink?"

"You bet I do." I swung my legs up on the bed as George moved over to give me some room. I wrapped my arms around him protectively, peppering his neck with little kisses. He giggled happily as he adjusted himself to be more comfortable.

Despite the happy position we were in, I still felt worries creep up on me. George and I rarely argued, and even when we did, it lasted less than a minute and we'd get straight back to being happy like just now. But each time, I blamed myself more and more. I wanted to talk to George about it, but then _he'd_ probably blame himself, and I don't want that.

Well, I'm not that worried right now. Waiting won't fix anything, but we have time...

...Right?


	6. Cloudy Skies

I woke up with George still wrapped tightly in my arms. I don't remember falling asleep, but judging by the orange light coming through my blinds, we slept for probably about an hour or two. A quiet meow sounded from my doorway, causing me to turn my head over to see Patches.

"Hey, baby," I whispered as she approached. She crouched down and tried to jump onto my bed, but failed.

I smiled softly, reaching out an arm to scoop her up. She's a little over 5 pounds, meaning she's really easy to pick up with one hand. I brought her up to me and let her wander about the bed, choosing where she wants to sit. She settled on laying next to George's resting arms.

I was ready to grab my phone and take a picture when another meow could be heard behind me. I figured that it was George's cat, who must have followed Patches upstairs. Now that I think about it, I don't remember leaving the door open. Maybe I didn't close it fully and the cats nudged it, or maybe my dad was just wondering where we were and forgot to close it. Regardless, I scooped up the tabby cat and let him also choose where to sit. He never really settled, though, stepping all over our skulls, arms, and chests a little uncomfortably.

All the movement woke up George, who stretched an arm upwards before settling it on Patches's head. George's cat must have felt left out because he stopped on my stomach and looked at me expectantly. I obliged, letting go of George to give him scritches.

"Morning, Clay," George said. "The cats wake you up too?"

"Nah, I've been awake for a little while. I had to pick them up."

"Ah. I was wondering how they got on the bed."

"Yeah."

"Won't there be cat hair though? I never really let my cat on my bed."

"Eh, Patches likes my bed. I just use one of those roller things and wash my sheets like twice a week."

"Ohhh." He changed his petting on said Patches, who purred happily.

I pulled out my phone, checking the time. "Anyway, as much as I love these guys, we should probably go down. We'll be having dinner soon."

"Mmm, 5 more minutes."

I giggled, kissing his neck softly. "I don't make the schedules, Gogy."

"Fine," he mumbled, sitting up. I did so too, picking up George's cat and gently carrying him away. Patches hopped down from the bed and followed me, hurrying George to roll out of bed and rush over to me and the cats.

We went downstairs to see my dad, who seemed a little stressed as he looked over his phone. When he saw us, though, he quickly smiled and put his phone away.

"Hey, guys," he waved. "How'd you sleep?"

I shrugged. "Pretty well. What's wrong?"

"It's..." He bit his lip hesitantly. "Nothing you need to worry about. Promise."

He's normally really open to me, so I knew what it was about just by his hesitation. "If it's about Mom, I can handle it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

He sighed. "Well, to be blunt, she's run her life into the ground. Not that I feel bad for her. But she knows that you're 18 now and is trying to get back into our house at the cost of you getting kicked out."

"The fuck!?" George shouted.

"Don't worry. I have no intentions of letting her do so."

"Why is she even trying?" I wondered aloud.

"Well... you remember how cut and dry the divorce was? Turns out, there might be a loophole she can exploit to do something like that because we didn't look at the fine print."

"For real? That's stupid."

"I don't make the law," he said, shaking his head. "But don't worry too much. I promise nothing bad will happen."

"Okay." I actually _was_ worried, but I didn't want to tell him that and make him any more worried than he already was. "Need help with dinner?"

"That'd be great. George, you can help if you want, but don't feel obligated."

"I'd love to," George insisted.

After placing Patches on the floor, I washed my hands and started making dinner with George. My dad joined us, though George and were managing to do most of it. We served the pretty well-made dinner and sat down to eat together. 

Once we finished, George and I bade my family goodnight before heading up to my room to cuddle up on the bed again. Tonight, George was the big spoon. We never really discussed how we'd cuddle when we slept or who would be big/little spoon when we did spooning - it just kinda fell into place.

"Good night, babe," he cooed, kissing my back.

"'Night."

The following morning, I was woken up by a fully clothed and ready George shaking me. I grumbled tiredly, turning over and pulling up the blankets higher over myself.

"Get up," he insisted, pulling them back down.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Clay, I will literally pick you up and carry you downstairs if you don't get up right now."

"Do it," I dared, assuming I was calling a bluff. 

"I warned you." With a sigh, he tossed off the blankets, making my near-naked body freeze. I was still in shock, which allowed George to wrench his arms under me and pick me up.

"W-Wait!" I wheezed. "I need clothes!"

"Too late. I'm bringing you down like this and I'll get you more clothes then."

"Can you even carry me down the stairs?" I asked, trying to persuade him to drop me. While I'm sure if I asked directly, he would, I was honestly having fun playing around.

"Yep. Now let's go." Grunting, he carried me out of my room and slowly, but surely, made his way down the stairs. I sort of wanted to protest, but if I started wiggling, he'd probably fall down the stairs, so I kept still. 

As I came into view of my sister, she started laughing loudly. "You need clothes, Clay."

I blushed, being actually a little bit embarrassed now. "I know! B-But George..."

"I'll get them, you big baby," he said, laying me on the couch. I blushed even deeper, though I can't say I wasn't enjoying this. He dashed up the stairs and came back down a few seconds later with my usual outfit of shorts, tank top, and hoodie. I gratefully slipped into them, scowling at my still cackling sister.

I walked up behind George and hoisted him up by sliding my arms under his shoulders. He gasped in surprise as I held him up in the fireman's carry like we did on the trip in 10th grade.

"Wh- Clay!" he sputtered, trying to get me to drop him.

"Payback time," I smirked. 

He tisked playfully as I secured him around my shoulders, moving to make breakfast while "wearing" him like a scarf. Cassie was wheezing like I do, clutching her stomach as she collapsed onto the couch. I didn't mind anymore, though I was a little worried George would. But he made no sign of protest, so I leaned down slowly to get some frozen pancakes out of the freezer to microwave.

Once they were done, I finished serving the pancakes, though we had to rush because of all the goofing off George and I did. I snatched up my backpack and tossed it in the backseat of my car as we all piled in to drive off to school. Nick waved at us as he came in about 10 minutes late, which was over his usual. As he passed us, he said, "I overslept. You guys want to go out for lunch?"

"Sure," I said, forgetting about the meeting. 

"Mhm!" George agreed.

As the day sluggishly moved on, I silently remembered that the second lunch meeting was today, which was annoying, since we had just made plans with Nick.

When the time finally arrived for George and me to go to the lunch meeting, I intercepted him on his way to lunch, since he had forgotten. I reminded him, and together, we begrudgingly left to go to the Science classroom. Both teachers were already there, although we were earlier than our scheduled time. We took our seats in front of the desk again.

"Hello, boys," Ms. Mansell said, clicking the pen in her hand as she waved her clipboard menacingly.

"Hi," I mumbled. George seemed too scared to say anything, just waving awkwardly.

"If you would please quickly repeat the meeting, Mrs. O'Perra," she said sharply.

"U-Uh, so... yeah. You guys cheated on the last quiz."

"What's your proof?" Ms. Mansell immediately pressed.

"Well, your answers were the same. And you sit right next to each other."

"Like I said, I helped him study," I argued.

"Yes, but..." she trailed off, realizing she couldn't use the bullshit "George isn't normally smart" excuse in front of Ms. Mansell.

"Is that all?" Ms. Mansell asked pointedly. I shrugged and Mrs. O'Perra stuttered but didn't say anything else.

"Let me rephrase that. Is there any other proof you'd like to present?"

"Y-Yes. A student reported the same to me."

"Really? Please tell me this student's name later. Anything else?"

"...No."

"Thank you. Please leave while I ask Clay and George a few questions. I will be in charge of punishment."

Mrs. O'Perra walked out, looking defeated. George and I looked at each other with an excited face. We had literally just witnessed Mrs. O'Perra get completely obliterated. Then I realized that it was our turn when, after making sure the door was securely closed, Ms. Mansell asked, "So do you know why I came to this meeting?"

I looked at the ground nervously. "Not really."

"Essentially, Mrs. O'Perra always reports you two for a lot of stuff that ends up getting dismissed. Do you have any idea as to why?" She didn't sound upset at us, but then again, she rarely sounded upset even when she was.

"Oh, um..." I did have a very solid idea as to why, but I felt like me referencing my friends wouldn't be enough proof. 

But, to my surprise, she said, "Don't worry, you can tell me anything. So long as you keep it appropriate, I won't punish you for what you say. I'm here to find out something that could be serious, and I want to make sure you're not scared to share anything."

"Really?" I looked at George nervously. He nodded to show his approval, so I went ahead. "Well, um... I... or... we think that she's... homophobic. And then treats us worse because of that."

She wrote on her clipboard some. "I see. Do you know anyone else who's been mistreated?"

I was a little shocked. That claim didn't phase her at all. "Well, there's Bad- um, Darryl - in our class. And then there's Alex, too."

"Anyone else?" she asked, scribbling on her clipboard swiftly.

"None that I know."

"Alright. Anything you want to say, George?"

"U-Um... Clay said it all, really."

She clicked her pen again and held her clipboard to her chest. "I will look into this. Now please go get lunch. I don't want to make you too late."

"Okay. Bye, Ms. Mansell," I said.

She waved politely. "Bye, guys."

George and I all but ran out of the room. Even though I didn't bend the truth at all and really said the bare facts, it still felt like I had lied to her and I was going to get expelled or something. George seemed to feel the same way.

"Glad that's over," he sighed, looking around at the silent halls. "Nick's probably wondering where we are."

"Yeah. Let's go get him."

We walked down to the cafeteria to see if Nick hadn't left yet. As it turned out, he hadn't, since we saw him sitting down at our usual table with the rest of our friend group, although he didn't have a lunch.

As we approached, he frowned. "I forgot about the second meeting you guys had. Oops."

"Nah, we did too," I said dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Still wanna go out for lunch?"

"Sure. Em, you coming?" he looked at his girlfriend, who was sitting next to him, also with no lunch. She seemed to be a consistently late person like Nick, so I wasn't surprised that she didn't have lunch.

"Yeah!" she said, standing up eagerly. The four of us walked out the door and made the short distance to McDonald's, ordering our food and sitting down at one of the tables. We didn't have much time, but we did chat a little bit more about Halloween.

"My costume finally came yesterday," Nick said. "It's heavy as fuck."

"Really?"

"Yeah. The milk part is basically styrofoam, but the glass is, like, solid plastic.

"Wait, it's 3D? I thought it was one of those, like, parka-looking things."

Emily rolled her eyes. "It's 3D, alright. I told him he's gonna bump into literally everyone at the party."

Nick pouted playfully. "C'mon, it won't be that bad."

"Dave said that there's already over 100 people going," Emily stated.

"Shit, that reminds me. I need to RSVP," I said.

"Wow, even I remembered," Nick snickered.

"Shush," I scoffed, pulling out my phone to text Dave. They didn't have any exact RSVP information besides the contact info, but I already had Dave's number, so I didn't need to manually type it in. "George, you're coming, right?"

"That's the point of getting the costume, yes," he sassed.

"Okay, just making sure."

 **Clay:** george and I are coming  
 **Clay:** thats our RSVP  
 **Dave:** k  
 **Dave:** see you there

"That's sorted, then," George said, noticing that my very brief conversation with Dave had ended.

"Yep. By the way, George, our costumes should be here today."

"Nice. Can't wait to try them on."

"What are you guys going as?" Emily asked, taking a long sip from her iced tea.

"Jessie and James from Pokémon," George answered, taking an equally long sip from his Sprite.

"I'm bringing my Pumpkaboo plushie," I added.

"You have a Pumpkaboo plushie?" Nick asked, stunned. 

"Dude, you've seen my room. I have way too many plushies."

"Well, it's been a long time..." he defended. "You don't remember them, do you, George?"

He shrugged. "Well, I have been staying at his house for the past few days. But before that... eh, sort of."

Nick looked defeated. We all sat and ate for a little while, watching our lunch break slowly tick by. I thought more about the Mrs. O'Perra incident, wondering who reported it to her. I remember that I saw a boy in our class talking to her at the end of the period - could he have been the one who reported it? Maybe this time he started the rumor, which would explain why it seemed like there was no basis from Mrs. O'Perra this time. It definitely checked out, but that left the question... Who was he, anyway? Was it... Ja-

"Clay. Hey, Clay!" George said, snapping me out of my trance-like thoughts.

"Hm?"

He looked concerned. "You spaced out. You okay?"

"Oh. Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry if I worried you," I assured him.

"Don't worry. Anyway, we need to go, like, now. Lunch is about to end." He pointed to our two friends who were leaving the restaurant.

"Okay." I grabbed my trash and threw it away before George and I whisked out of the restaurant, our hands sliding together while we had the chance. The school afternoon went by as usual until the very end when Ms. Mansell did the loudspeaker announcements.

"Please be aware that the professional development day has been moved from next Friday to next Monday. Again, please come to school next Friday and do not on Monday."

As I zipped up my backpack, I pondered, "Strange. Wonder why they're doing that?"

"Maybe the Halloween party?" George suggested, shrugging.

I shook my head. "I doubt they'd change the whole schedule just for that Halloween party. Plus, it's on Saturday - they'd have Sunday as a rest day."

"Then what could it be? Must be urgent to change the whole schedule."

"Urgent, huh... what if- nevermind. It's unlikely." I shook my head dismissively. "Now let's go home, I'm tired."

"Same. I'm so tired of today."

We met up with Cassie and drove back, seeing that we had packages on our front step. I dropped my stuff off inside before coming back out to grab them. I placed them on the kitchen table and grabbed scissors to open the box with. As I expected, it was our costumes and wigs.

"Hey, George!" I called. "Our shit's here!"

"Okay!" He dashed over to where I was to look at them. We nodded at each other before bringing the boxes upstairs to try them on.

I stripped down to my underwear and pulled out all of the contents of the box, tossing them onto my bed.

"Okay, you have the skirt and smaller shirt, probably," I said, tossing them at George. I took my own costume pants, undershirt, and shirt and put them on. It was one of those weird costumes that had masquerade boots that you wear over shoes as opposed to actual boots, so I left those for when I would try it for real. Next was the wig, but it was in a hairnet and I had no idea how to get it out, so I decided to leave it to Alex when they styled it for me. 

I turned back to look at George, who was struggling with the thigh-high boot masquerades. I walked over, knelt down, and pulled them up for him. I looked up at him to see that he was blushing, which made me realize the position we were in.

"Oh shit," I whispered. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Let's see how these look, yeah?"

I stood up and backed away, looking over George's costume. Neither of us had our wigs on, but everything else looked great. George's smooth belly was peeking out a little bit, but it definitely wasn't as pronounced as I first thought it would be.

"Looks good. What about mine?" I asked.

He nodded. "Looks great."

"Nice."

We looked out the window to see that clouds had suddenly formed and it looked like it was about to rain, as usually happens here. We put our regular clothes back on and went downstairs, George flopping onto the couch tiredly to watch the storm from the window. 

"Come cuddle?" he asked adorably.

I shook my head. "You have work to do."

"Fine. But after?"

"Yes." 

We didn't have much actual homework, but we did have a test coming up for Math. I was his study partner, writing him a few problems and walking him through how to do them. He seemed to get the hang of it after a while, which made me really proud of him. His grades came up from mostly B-'s and C+'s to mostly A-'s or B+'s during both Junior and Senior years. I would have helped him before we were dating in my Sophomore year, but my mom refused to have him over or let me go to his house because she was a homophobic twat. Even though I did go sometimes after school, I never really helped him with any work or study.

"Thanks so much, Clay. Really."

"Of course. Do you want to cuddle now?"

"Yeah." He took a seat on the couch and I sat next to him, putting my arm around the back of the couch and bringing him in for a side hug as the skies opened up and released a torrent of rain. We watched some TV, and even though we'd be having dinner within the hour, I let George drift off on my shoulder.

I smiled, looking at his sleeping face. I love him so much.


	7. Approaching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a conversation relating to sex. If you are easily discomforted by those types of things, skip where the bold lines tell you to.  
> \--  
> This chapter contains a scene of parental abuse. If you are sensitive to that, skip where that respective bold line tells you to.

Thunder roared overhead and rain slashed the windows, making being inside with my boyfriend in my arms all the cozier. While it'd probably let up before dinner, I always love sitting inside during thunderstorms. They scared Patches, though - she'd always hide under something or try to wiggle next to you on the couch. Right now, I think she was behind the couch, but I had no idea where George's cat could have went. George himself couldn't seem to stay asleep with the storm outside, so he sat up and put his legs across my lap to watch the storm with me.

We stayed like that for a while before my dad called us over for dinner. He seemed tense, but I didn't want to push him on what it was - after all, I had a very good idea what it was already, judging by the legal-looking envelope on the counter. After a mostly silent dinner, George and I goofed off in my basement, playing some Mario Maker. We were taking turns doing endless expert, which had levels of highly varying difficulty. One in particular made me want to throw my controller across the room. You had to do a shell jump over a bottomless pit, so if you fell, you had to restart the level. The controller kept going back and forth until I decided that I'd best go to sleep before something got broken. Specifically by me.

"I'm gonna go to bed," I said, putting my controller down gently, though I wanted to chuck it against the wall. "You coming?"

"Yeah." He reached to turn the console off and I took his hand to lead him to my room. As we opened the door, George doubled back out of the room.

"Where are you going?" I asked, taking off my shirt.

"Shower."

"Okay. I'll go after you."

"Sure. Be out in a sec."

I heard the water turn on and the sounds of it being redirected around a body. I laid back on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as I waited for George to finish. He didn't take very long, so after a while, he came back in his underwear with his hair sopping wet. He looked really cute.

"Hey, cutie," I said, smirking.

He giggled. "Hi... Uh... fuck, I can't think of an original name. Sorry."

"Aw. Don't worry, Gogy." I gave him a big hug, squeezing his shoulders.

"You smell, go shower," he teased as we broke apart. I rolled my eyes and left to go to the bathroom.

Slipping past him, I stepped into my bathroom and turned on the water. While I was waiting for it to get hot, I took off all of my clothes and piled them on the counter, as well as grabbing a towel from the closet. I then stepped into the shower, letting the water flow over me. I stood in the hot water for a while, letting my naked body warm up. I then evaluated my life at the moment like always do in the shower. School kinda sucks, but maybe Mrs. O'Perra's getting fired. Then there was the Halloween party on Saturday. But that's at night... what else will I do Saturday? Starting with the morning, I'll... 

Oh.

I'll probably be in bed with George after... well... the night before. It's kind of scary to think it's that soon. I'm not having second thoughts about the act itself, but I am pretty nervous. When looking at it from the perspective of how soon Friday would be, Monday and Tuesday had zoomed past, and Friday was already the day after tomorrow.

 _Well, no point thinking about that any more right now._ I cleaned myself off quickly and stepped out of the shower, turning the water off and drying myself with the towel. I looked around and mentally punched myself. I'd left my new underwear in my room, and I didn't want to put on my old ones. I just decided to wrap my towel around my waist and slip into my new pair quickly.

George's eyes widened as he saw me enter the room. I saw him scan my body and blush a little bit as his eyes lingered on the top of my towel before quickly darting away.

"Like what you see?" I teased.

He raised his eyebrows. "Uh... yeah? I like it a lot, actually."

It was my turn to blush, even though I was the one who teased him. I'm not sure what I was expecting there. "Well, I need to get my underwear on. U-Um..." I wanted him to turn the other way while I did that. Even though we had exchanged pictures and did the video calling thing, we'd never been naked while physically near each other.

"I can turn the other way if you want," he suggested, noticing my conflicted expression.

"Yeah, please." He turned around and flopped facedown on the bed at my request, which let me drop my towel and quickly slip into my underwear. I snuggled into the covers with him, clicking the lights off. He turned onto his side to face me, so I loosely wrapped my legs around his waist and put my arms around his shoulders as he placed his hands around my sides, pulling me closer. Our noses bumped gently as we laid our heads on the pillow.

**The sexual conversation begins here. Look for the next bold line to find where it ends.**

* * *

After admiring each other for a while, I whispered, "Um, George?"

"Hm?" he responded.

I smiled nervously. "Um... we should probably talk about Friday night."

"What about it?" 

"Well, um..." I blushed, praying George couldn't see it because of the dark. "First, where do you want to do it?"

He thought it was obvious. "Well, my parents are out, so my house probably works."

I nodded. "That's what I was thinking too. Okay, next... We need to buy prep."

"I think only you should."

"Why me?" I wondered. I was honestly intimidated to go buy prep by myself.

"I would come too, but I dunno if you need to be 18 or not to buy it. Plus, if we do it together... well, you know how some people are."

"Fair point," I sighed. "Okay, what do I need to get?"

"Lube definitely. You can't do without it. Um... Shit, I searched this up the other day, but I'm forgetting. Oh, but that reminds me. Um... There's probably something else I should tell you. Not shopping, though."

"What is it?"

"Well... It's gonna hurt. No matter how much lube we use."

"Oh." 

I was a little intimidated at that, seeing as to how I've never done any sort of play down there. While I've heard it hurts, I never really put too much thought into it. "Thanks for telling me. I'll be fine, though."

Even though neither of us was suggesting anything else, I felt like we were missing something important but weren't mentioning it. Then I remembered. It seemed like the obvious first choice after lube.

"Wait, what about condoms?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah. Are you clean?" he asked, seemingly also just remembering about them.

"I dunno. Never been tested."

"Oh. Makes sense." He looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Well... We're both virgins, right? Like, no oral with someone else or anything?"

I looked away, blushing even more. "This'll be my first time with anyone."

"Same here. There should be no risk, then."

"Maybe, but..." I sighed shakily. "I-If it's okay, I still want to use one until we both get tested."

"Of course it's okay, Clay. I'll use one." He patted my back softly, making me feel cozy.

"Thanks."

We stared at each other for a brief moment as a smile slowly crept onto my face. The whole conversation was, though necessary, ridiculous and a little bit awkward. I laughed quietly at the fact, which caused George to start laughing too.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm down, I said, "Okay, so we need lube and condoms, right?"

"Yep."

"Right. I'll go Friday after school 'cause Cassie has a club that day and that's the day you're going back home, so we don't have to worry about bringing you."

He nodded. "Sounds like a plan." 

I rested my head in the crook of his neck, kissing his collarbone gently. He giggled adorably, stroking my hair and pulling my head in closer.

"Do you wanna go to sleep now?" he asked.

"Yeah. 'Night, Gogy."

"'Night, Clay."

* * *

**The sexual conversation ends here.**

Thursday morning rolled around and brought with it damp grass and wet sidewalks. The storm had lasted a lot longer than I thought, and Cassie said Patches went to sleep with her because the poor cat was still spooked. She was happy again this morning, though, and greeted George and me with the usual nuzzle and purr. Cassie was sitting on the couch, looking at her phone distractedly. I looked at my bag and thought I was missing something, then I remembered that I needed to bring Alex the wigs so they could style them. I quickly dashed upstairs to grab them and also grabbed a 20 dollar bill from the counter for their trouble. I knew they'd be insistent on not taking it, but I didn't want to give them nothing.

Once I got those in my bag, I served up some microwave pancakes and the three of us ate. Right as I had finished, Patches came up to me for attention, so I gave her some by placing her on my lap and scritching her head softly as I watched George and Cassie finish their breakfasts. Pretty soon, though, they finished, so I reluctantly had to put Patches on the floor and pet her goodbye. I slung my bag over my shoulder and drove us all to school, getting ready for whatever was gonna happen today. 

When it was time for Science, I dreaded going into the classroom, but to my relief, we had a sub. Even though she wasn't great, she was much better than Mrs. O'Perra. Strangely, she didn't mention why Mrs. O'Perra was out. While normally, the sub would explain that the teacher was sick or had an appointment or something, she just taught like usual.

As usual with subs, we didn't learn much, instead reviewing things that the teacher thought people had trouble with and doing classwork for most of the period. When we got to that point, I had a hushed conversation with George about why Mrs. O'Perra was out.

"Surely she wasn't actually fired?" he asked. "There's no way that a teacher in this school would listen for once, minus Mrs. Blaire. But we don't even have her anymore."

I nodded. "True. Unless... I don't know Ms. Mansell that well, so maybe she would?"

"Hopefully." He brushed some eraser shavings off of his paper.

"Boys, please stop talking and do your work," the substitute sighed at us.

"Sorry," I said instinctively. George snickered and I shot him a glare. As much as I hated to admit it, I was a teacher's pet when I was younger, and though I'm not one anymore, some of the behaviors from back then were still ingrained in me. I blame my mother for telling me to respect all adults no matter what when some of them definitely do not deserve it. Like my mother herself.

After Science, we had Math and then lunch, like usual. On my way there, I saw Alex, so I turned to talk to them. I had brought my backpack because I meant to give the stuff to them at lunch, but we stopped in the hallway to interact. George stood beside me, looking at his phone as Alex and I talked.

"Hey, guys! Did you get the wigs?" they asked, spinning their lunch bag on their finger.

"Yep! Here you go." I rummaged in my bag for a while before pulling out the neatly folded 20 dollar bill and two wigs.

As I expected, they didn't want to accept the money. "Oh, you don't need to pay me-"

"Shush," I said. "I want to since you're doing so much for us."

They smiled weakly. "You're too nice."

"Maybe." I didn't believe it myself, but it was nice to be complimented.

"By the way, thanks for keeping them in the hairnets. I meant to ask you to do that."

I shrugged. "Sure." 

Alex looked at the wigs thoughtfully before putting them in the bag they carried everywhere. "Anyway, when do you want them? Depending on how much homework I get today, I can give it to you as soon as tomorrow, though I'd rather give it to you at the party."

"We'll do that, then," I said, smiling. "Thanks so much."

"No, you."

"No, you."

"No, you."

"Alright, you win." I chuckled, accepting my defeat. "Let's go to lunch. C'mon, Georgie."

"Okie," he chirped, putting his phone away.

The three of us walked to the cafeteria, laughing and talking happily. Bad and Zak were already at our usual table, smiling at each other wholesomely. However, there was someone else there - Dave. I was a little surprised; Dave was almost exactly like a stereotypical jock, meaning that he normally sat with the popular kids.

"Hey, man!" I greeted.

"Hey, Clay! Hey, guys!" he stood up and gave the three of us each a fist bump. We all sat down again and George looked around.

"Where's Nick and Emily?" he asked.

Dave shrugged. "I think they went to 7-11."

George tilted his head to the side. "Why?" 

Dave looked up thoughtfully. "Slurpees, sex in the bathroom... There's lots of possibilities."

"Hey! That's not appropriate!" Bad scolded. Zak rolled his eyes.

He put his hands up defensively. "I mean, there's literally no way to tell. Like, maybe they're adopting a lost orphan."

"Maybe, but I doubt they're doing that," Zak scoffed. "Well, I _hope_ they're not doing that. We're all innocent here."

I gave George a sideways look, which caused both of us to start laughing quietly.

"What?" Zak asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Nothing," George said quickly. "Anyway, how's party prep going, Dave?"

"I've got mostly everything. I'll be setting up Friday afternoon and all of Saturday, and I paid my girlfriend like 50 dollars to be in charge of the drinks."

"What's she gonna do?" George asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Make sure no one has more than 3. Both for the attendees' sakes and the sake of the stock I managed to get."

I was a little confused. "Wait, is there not going to be any normal drinks?"

"Nah, there'll be self-serve water and soda and stuff. I'm talking about the _other_ drinks."

"Ohh." I still wasn't planning on drinking any because I definitely wasn't calling an Uber when George wanted to leave.

We finished up our lunch and were getting ready to say goodbye when Nick and Emily came back from the 7-11, holding empty Slurpee cups in their hands to throw away. Well, at least it wasn't Dave's first suggestion.

"Hey, guys!" Nick said.

I gave him a high-five. "Hey. How was your date?"

"Pretty good." He looked over at his girlfriend, smiling. "Em, you have Slurpee on your face."

"What? Where?" she asked.

"On your cheek."

She wiped the excess off her cheek and thanked her boyfriend. We all went our separate ways, spending the rest of the day pretty calmly. Last period, I had PE, though since George, Bad, and Zak had dropped it after they got enough credit and had picked up a different elective, the only friends I had were Dave and Nick. We did a few laps around the gym, which was no problem for any of us. Nick had gotten a lot more fit over the past few years. While he was never completely unfit, he just didn't try to become more so. He never told me why he decided to, but I think it's because he developed a crush of his own. Next, we did dodgeball, which was also easy. Dave, Nick, and I were put on the same team and we destroyed the other team with none of us getting out once. Once it was over, George and I met up again.

My boyfriend and I walked out of school and met up with Cassie in my car. I slid into the driver's seat and went off as usual. When we got home, I flopped on the couch and looked up at George with puppy eyes.

"Come cuddle?" I pleaded.

He shook his head sadly. "We gotta do work. We don't have much time tomorrow and you probably don't want to do it Saturday."

"True," I sighed, getting up to get my work out. George rolled his eyes playfully as he did the same, both of us sitting down to do our work. I had English homework that involved a lot of writing, so I couldn't really talk to George and work at the same time. After a long while of writing, I set down my pen and massaged my cramped hand.

"What's wrong?" George wondered.

"My hand hurts," I sighed, pouting dramatically.

He smiled, looking at my hand. "Can I?"

I nodded and let him take my hand in both of his. His thumbs ran softly across my palm, leaning down to kiss the back of my hand like a guy from the 1800s. Giggling, I turned my wrist to cup his cheek, bringing his head up so he was eye level with me. I moved my hand under his chin and tilted his head up, bringing him for a kiss that he melted into. I was just about to wrap him in for a hug when the doorbell rang. I shrugged it off as being a package or something, but as I moved back to continue kissing George, it rang again.

"Cassie, you get it," I shouted, annoyed that whoever it was had interrupted George's and my make-out session.

"I'm upstairs!" she responded, bothered. "Why don't you get it?"

"'Cause I'm doing homework with George!"

"You're still closer!"

The doorbell ringing had stopped and had turned into loud knocking. "Just do it! Please?"

"Fine." I heard her running down the stairs and grabbing the handle to the front door, practically throwing it open. I scoffed, though I was thankful that she did get it. I wondered who it was, but I quickly brushed it off to look back at George.

"Do you wanna keep making out or-"

I was cut off by my sister. "Wait! What the fuck!?"

**Parental abuse TW applies now. Skip the rest of the chapter if you are sensitive.**

* * *

We snapped our head towards the door, where Cassie seemed to be in an altercation with a woman at the door. 

"Get off!" Cassie shouted, trying to shove the woman off of her.

"Let me talk to him!" the woman shrieked shrilly. I recognized that voice all too well and so did George, who tensed up and started to look protective.

"Clay, call Dad!" Cassie called, looking back.

I wasn't about to dawdle. I stood up quickly and was about to run upstairs when Cassie fell down with a cry and her own mother, who had knocked her down, came charging up to me. I didn't have any time to react as she grabbed my wrists and prevented me from pushing her away.

"Where are your car keys!?" She yelled into my face. Her breath reeked of hard alcohol, which made me scrunch my face up. "Give me your car!" 

Tears started streaming down my face as I struggled against her grip. She started roughly shoving her hands in my pockets, presumably searching for my car keys. I didn't have them on me, but I wasn't going to tell her where they were, either. George sprinted over and tried to get her to stop without hurting her, lightly grabbing her wrists and trying to break her iron grip.

"Stop!" I sobbed, trying to kick at her. Saying "stop" wasn't going to do anything, but what else could I do? The position I was in made my kicks weak and ineffective, and she kept attacking me while holding off George. Sure, I was fit and could beat someone like her in hand-to-hand combat easily, but this was more than just a physical struggle.

"Children should obey their mothers! I need your car!"

"Get off of him!" George shouted, finally managing to rescue me. He wrestled me away, turning around so his back was facing my assailant and wrapping his arms around me protectively. I cried into his chest as he protected me from the flurry of slurs and swipes, taking them all while still holding me tightly. I sort of shut off my hearing, the only noise being the buzzing in my brain as harsh memories burst forth.

_"What is this!?"_

_She held out my phone with text messages on it. The contact at the top read_ 💖❤️ _george_ ❤️💖, _but the messages revealed even more._

_"I-It's..." I trailed off, knowing what about to come._

_"I told you he'd turn you into a fag!" She grabbed the collar of my shirt and started screaming into my face._ _"He's no good! That riffraff is destroying the family in America!"_

_I clenched my fist, my nails nearly drawing blood from my palm. "Shut. Up."_

_"After all I do for you, you talk to me like that!?"_

_"I... I don't give a fuck about you anymore!" I sobbed. "I love him! I love George! And you're not gonna stop us!"_

_My dad was watching apprehensively while my sister had tears in her eyes. Of course neither of them would help. They never did._

_"You-"_

_She started at me, and despite my tiredness of having not slept for the past 2 days, adrenaline pumped through my veins. I grabbed my phone from her hands, making her gasp dramatically._

_"How dare you! Get out!"_

_"Fine!"_

_I ran out the door with nothing but the clothes on my back and my phone, no destination in mind except George himself, wherever he was..._

"Clay..." he whispered.

I opened my eyes slowly, looking around. My sister was looking at me with concern in her eyes and my dad was on the phone, his hand pressed to his head out of stress. But my mom wasn't anywhere to be seen. Was it over?

"You okay? Did you get it all out?" George didn't move at all, just holding me close. I realized I was wearing a blanket. I had wrapped my legs around his waist

"I... yeah."

He still held me tighter. I just realized we were on the couch and that both Patches and George's cat had snuggled up to me to make me feel better. My breathing slowed somewhat, and soon enough, I found myself drifting off to sleep.

"I think he's asleep..." Cassie whispered. I hadn't fully fallen asleep yet, though I was very close.

George stroked my hair very lightly. "He normally is after something like that."

I heard my dad speak quietly. "George, um... do you think you could help Cassie and me with something?"

I felt George turn his head down toward me, weighing his options. I didn't want to talk, so I tightened my legs' grip on his waist and snuggled my face further into his chest.

"I think Clay wants me to stay with him. I'll be doing that."

"Alright. Cassie, you can do it yourself, right?"

"Yeah."

Cassie and my dad were rummaging about oddly before I heard them leave through the garage door. After a while, George laid his head on top of mine, saying, "I love you, Clay."

Despite my voice being dry, I wanted to tell him the same, so I spoke up. "I love you too, George."


	8. Fly Me to the Moon

When I woke up, George was still holding me tightly. He'd turned the TV on, though it was at a low volume. I leaned back a little, wincing at the wet spot in George's shirt. It wasn't the first time I got his shirt wet while crying, and I always felt bad since he'd never needed the same from me.

Noticing I was awake, George stroked my hair lightly. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

I rested my arms around his shoulders tiredly. "Could be better. Where'd my dad and Cassie go?"

"Police station," he answered, seemingly unbothered.

"Oh. Why?" I asked, confused by his laid-back attitude.

He shrugged. "Something about a restraining order."

I raised my eyebrows, confused. "I thought we already had one. His divorce attorney encouraged it when that whole thing was happening."

"Hm. Maybe they're reporting the violation."

"Why not just call 911?"

"He didn't want you to be alarmed. That's why he wanted to bring me."

"Well, why didn't you go?"

"You didn't want me to."

"I didn't?"

"It seems like it. You clutched onto me so tight I almost couldn't breathe when he asked if I could go."

"Oh." I was a little embarrassed. Now that I was in a better state of mind, I would have definitely rather he go than stay here because his account was probably valuable. Although, I can't say I wasn't thankful for him staying. "Um... Thanks for staying."

"Of course, Clay." He reached to brush a few stray bangs out of my face before resting his thumb on my cheekbone to wipe away a tear I didn't know was there. We stared at each other for a bit as the feelings washed over me again, fresh tears welling up in my eyes.

"C-Can you... hold me?" I asked in a small voice. He didn't answer; he simply brought me in for a hug. I calmed down some and relaxed, my arms falling onto his lap. George's phone buzzed, so he looked at his phone, still holding me gently.

"Hey, do you want to have dinner yet?" he asked softly once he finished reading.

I was a little confused at the sudden suggestion. However, I was definitely ready to have dinner. "Yeah. I'm actually kinda hungry."

"Alright. Do you want to get a pizza? Your dad said he's getting Chipotle with Cassie."

"Yeah. I can order-"

He shook his head. "No. I'll do it."

I didn't protest his assertion. I slid down so my head was sitting on George's lap, readjusting the blanket over myself so I was tucked in more comfortably. His thigh was a little bony, but it was comfortable all the same. He giggled and started to order online, tapping away at the website. His free hand found its way into my hair, ruffling it softly. I turned my attention to the show George was watching. I didn't recognize it until I saw the font that showed up on the bottom left every so often.

"You're watching The Amazing Race?" I wondered, amused.

He looked over the side of his phone down at me. "It was the first thing that the TV was on and I just got invested."

"I mean, my dad likes it a lot, so that's probably why it was on first."

"Well, it is a good show." He turned off his phone and put it away. "Anyway, the pizza will be here in, like, 20 minutes."

"Okay."

I returned my attention to the TV. The team they were focusing on right now was in 2nd, but they weren't doing great. The challenge seemed really simple, but they kept making stupid mistakes that were just frustrating to watch.

"We should go on The Amazing Race," I blurted out tiredly. "We'd do so much better than these idiots."

George chuckled. "That'd be fun. Have you ever travelled?"

"Been to Rome once. It smelled like shit," I scoffed. "But that's all I've travelled."

He nodded, running his hand around my hair. "I remember you telling me about that. Did you learn any Italian?"

"Nope. I was, like, 5 at the time. Too lazy to learn any Italian."

"We should learn more languages if we're going on The Amazing Race."

"Maybe, but I swear, they don't let people who know more than one language. You'd think that after all these seasons they'd have at least one team who knows a language like French or Spanish," I suggested.

George thought about it for a moment. "You're probably right. Makes the 'figure out what these mean' challenges more entertaining because people don't know what they are."

"Yeah." I snuggled against his leg and focused on the show. I saw George's cat out of the corner of my eye as he went up to me for cuddles. I smiled, scooping him up and moving on the couch so he had space on the cushion. Patches didn't want to be left out, so I picked her up too, meaning I was now sitting with two cats. George reached out to pet his cat on the head, encouraging him to scoot closer to his owner. Patches curled up next to my arms, nuzzling her head against my wrists. At that moment, I forgot about all the emotions and pain I had just gone through. It wouldn't go away, sure, but right now, all I felt was warmth and happiness from being with George and our cats.

Soon enough, the pizza came, and I had to reluctantly bring my head off of George's lap to let him receive it. I sat up and stretched widely, startling Patches, who ran off towards her bed and food. George's cat followed her, leaving me alone on the couch. Frowning slightly, I shrugged off the blanket, watching George thank the pizza person before coming back with our dinner. 

He placed it on the coffee table and walked to the kitchen, calling, "What do you want to drink?"

"Sprite," I answered.

"Here you go." He walked over with two cans of Sprite and some plates. He passed me a can before opening the box and piling a few slices on each plate.

"Thanks, George." I took the plate he offered me and starting eating.

"No problem." We sat with our legs as close as they could be, munching on our pizza and watching the TV. I soon felt full just as I finished half of the pizza, and it fortunately seemed like George was going to finish the other half. When we were finished, we placed our plates on the table and leaned back, satisfied.

"Let's just sleep here," I mumbled, too tired to go upstairs.

"Alright." He laid down so his head was on the armrest of the couch with a throw pillow for comfort. I leaned down so I was using his thigh as a pillow and I brought up the blanket over both of us.

"Good night, George."

"'Night, Clay." He caressed my head softly as both of us fell asleep together.

The next morning, I could feel that I had changed positions. My arm was dangling over the couch and my legs stuck over the other armrest. George's legs were laying over me, resting around my shoulders and gently pushing my head into the couch. I slowly slipped out from under them and cleaned up our stuff from last night, putting the pizza box into the recycling bin and rinsing the plates off. I then started making breakfast, but as I got to the microwave to microwave the pancakes, I saw that it was 5:52 AM. Well, that explains why the usual early bird George was still asleep. 

While I was debating whether or not to still make the pancakes, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I looked over to see my dad, who seemed surprised to see me.

"Morning," he greeted.

"Good morning," I responded, deciding to put the pancakes back.

"How are you feeling?"

I shrugged, giving the same answer I gave George. "I've been better."

"Good." He looked around nervously and took a step to make some coffee, but sighed and turned back towards me. "About yesterday... do you want to know what happened?"

"Um... Yeah."

He sighed, seemingly hoping I would say no. Despite that, he still began explaining. "Well, um... Mo- _She_ crashed her car a few days ago, so she thinks she's entitled to yours. Which is completely untrue," he added. "So she... well, she did what she did. Cassie called me and told me, but by the time I arrived, your mother had run off. You still have your car, and so do Cassie and me, so the police guessed that she ran off on foot."

"Wait, the police came?" I raised my eyebrows, a bit confused.

He shook his head. "Only for a search around. I made sure they didn't question you."

"Why? I can handle it."

"You were in distress."

"Well, so was Cassie, and you let her."

"This isn't about- Listen, you wouldn't understand."

"Pretty sure I would."

"Tell me, would you rather have-" His face was red, but he cut off his sentence halfway. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, which made my heart drop in guilt. He didn't want to scare me. "Clay, look... I'm sorry for raising my voice at you. But I'm just trying to make sure you'll be okay."

"I'm sorry too." I bit my lip and looked at the floor shamefully. "But still, what about Cassie?"

He chuckled. "She wanted to help. Trust me, I would have stopped you both from participating, but she decided she would."

I understood now. The remorse from snapping at my dad gnawed at me, but I was still curious about the rest of the events."Okay, well, what's the police doing about it?"

"They're looking for her. They don't need a warrant, luckily, but they still need to find her."

"Oh."

The conversation was a little dry after that as my dad went to make his coffee and I stood blankly with no idea of what to do. After a while, he asked, "So, uh... How's George doing?"

"He's fine, I think." I looked over to the couch where he lay, which reminded me of something. "Speaking of him, I'm gonna be at his house all of today and tomorrow."

He sighed. "Can't you tell me these things earlier? You may be a legal adult, but I'm still your father. I need to know these things."

"I just forgot," I mumbled, looking at the floor.

"Well, okay." He checked his watch tiredly, going to grab his coffee cup and work bag. "I'd better get going. Bye, Clay."

"Bye."

After he drove off, I went to go back to the couch and cuddle with George, but then I saw that, in my absence, he had subconsciously stretched out to fill up the entire thing. I smiled, instead deciding to go to the kitchen table to browse my phone. Most of it was rather boring and I just shut it off after a while of scrolling. That had killed a little bit of time, but not much. Part of me wanted to pester George awake, but then I realized that he put up with me sleeping on him not only for last night but also briefly before dinner. I should let him sleep.

However, that meant I had nothing to do for about 30 minutes. I had adequate time to get some new clothes on, but other than that, I had nothing to do. I decided to watch the cats do their things until my boyfriend woke up.

I noticed him waking up when the throw pillow he was using fell off the couch as he leaned up, He looked around for me before finally noticing me in the corner with the cats.

"Hi," he said, cute as ever.

"Hi," I responded. I went over to give him a big hug, staring down at his cute face. He patted my back and returned the hug, humming tiredly. 

"Do you want me to help you pack?" I asked.

"Yeah, please." We gave each other a quick peck on the lips which soon turned into a deep, passionate kiss. I held his jaw in my hand and clambered over him on the couch for a better angle. I heard movement upstairs and quickly broke away so we wouldn't get walked in on by my sister, who was sure to be coming down the stairs soon.

"How's my favorite gay couple doing?" she asked snarkily.

"You could have just said hello," I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Can you make us some breakfast? I need to help George pack."

"Fine, whatever." She went to make breakfast as George and I went upstairs to my room. He piled his clothes into the bag he had brought with him, taking a thorough check around the room to confirm he got everything.

He stood back, putting his hands on his hips and sighing. "I'm gonna miss you."

I wrapped my arms around his waist, bringing him in for a back hug. "Well, I'll be with you this weekend, so it's not like it'll be for long. Actually, it's a huge length of time compared to what we've done in the past year."

"It's not gonna be the only huge length this weekend," he smirked.

"Wh- George!" I buried my face in his shoulder, my face burning up. George was giggling loudly as he pat my head comfortingly. Then he suddenly stopped and frowned.

"Wait, are you still up for it tonight? Because I completely understand if-"

"No. Actually, uh... Sorry if this sounds weird, but... I'm kinda excited." The thought of it kept my mind off of yesterday's events, meaning I had hyped myself out a fair amount.

"I mean, it might be weird, but hey, I am too."

"Wow, I thought you were the innocent one."

He rolled his eyes playfully. "Neither of us are exactly innocent, Clay."

"Fair point." I gently wrapped my arms around his waist, nuzzling my head into his shoulder.

Both of us laughing, George turned around to return the hug. We stayed together for a while more, my boyfriend leaning up to kiss my neck. Soon, he looked at my alarm clock and sighed. "Well, I'd better get going now so I can drop off my cat at home and still get to school."

"Yeah. Do you want me to carry you downstairs?"

"Nah. I have to carry this bag. Thanks, though."

"Aw, alright. Let's get going."

We came downstairs to see Cassie almost finishing her serving of pancakes, with two full plates across from her. I was a little surprised that she actually did it, but thankful nonetheless. I quickly woofed down my plate, though George was faster. I took his bags for him to let him pick up his cat, who seemed a little grumpy but remained compliant as George put him in his car. I put his other stuff in the back seat and leaned in for a kiss, which he happily returned. He turned his car on and sighed.

He took my hand in his gently. "I'll see you at school. Love you."

"I love you too."

His brown eyes met my green ones, which never failed to make my breath catch in my chest. I smiled stupidly as I ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it to one side how he likes it. After one more quick kiss on the forehead, he frowned sadly and nodded at the driveway.

"Bye."

"See you."

I stepped out of his car and closed the door, watching him drive off. After standing there for a bit, I somberly walked back to my house and started to pack for school. I wouldn't have to leave for another 10 minutes, so I was in no rush to get all of my stuff together and hop in my car. Cassie was taking her own car because she had a club, meaning I was driving alone. It was a little depressing to have no one in the car with me, but I got over it in the short drive from my house to school.

The beginning of the school day came and went with no sign of George. I wasn't that worried, since he had a 25 minute trip with his detour, but I was still a little lonely. He came running in a few minutes into 1st period and took his usual seat next to me.

"Hey," he whispered, seemingly out of breath.

"Hey," I smiled. "Why're you panting?"

"My car is almost out of gas, so I had to walk since it would take longer to stop and get some," he panted, flushed. "Well, I say walked; it's more like I ran."

"Aw, Gogy," I cooed, nudging his foot with mine. 

He grinned bashfully before composing himself again. "Anyway, you remember what to get at the CVS, right?"

"Yeah," I whispered.

We couldn't do any more than that since the teacher was looking at us and we had to get back to paying attention to the lesson. First period went by easily and soon enough, we got all the way to lunch. I noted how, even though I don't have Science today, I didn't see Mrs. O'Perra anywhere, though I did see her sub, meaning she was probably out again.

I relayed this to my friends, all of us sitting at the lunch table. "Anyone seen Mrs. O'Perra today? I haven't."

"Nope," Nick yawned.

Alex shook their head. "I haven't either."

"She wasn't here yesterday, either," Bad added. 

Zak nodded. "Oh yeah. Did she actually get fired? That's fucking awesome."

"Language!" Bad scolded, frowning at him. 

Zak giggled. "You're a big muffin."

"You're a bigger muffin, Geppy," Bad said. He poked Zak on the nose and loudly said, "Boop!"

Zak blushed but still smiled widely as he snatched Bad's glasses and put them on his own nose. I chuckled quietly to myself and finished up my lunch as Bad and Zak play-fought with each other. I missed the end of the interaction because I was in the bathroom, but when I got back, they were holding hands again (Bad's glasses back on his own nose). As I was heading to my 6th period, I absentmindedly remembered that I needed to go to the pharmacy after school. It kept bugging me throughout the rest of the school day, which then made time seem to go by faster. Soon enough, it was time for me to go, so I got in my car and, instead of taking the right road to my house, I turned left, which was where the closest shopping center was. I pulled into the parking lot, turned off my car, and starting walking into the CVS.

As soon as I got in, I had the impression that I shouldn't be there. 80 percent of the patrons were elderly people who were probably getting their prescriptions. Most of the other people were middle-aged folks who looked like they were doing actual shopping at the store. I focused on my destination and didn't pay attention to anyone else as I made my way to the sexual health section. I looked at the various objects lining the shelves and was even more confused. I did take sex ed and had a basic idea as to how to shop for condoms, but there were so many different types and brands of condoms and I hadn't really done my research on sizes. After a while, I decided that the standard size should fit both George and me, judging by the phallic (though not explicit) graphic on the box.

As I was looking at all the different types of standard-size condoms and wondering what George and I would both want, a girl came up to me. She wasn't unattractive and seemed to be around my age if a bit older since she definitely didn't go to my school. I'd guess she was probably 20 or so.

"Hey, cutie," she greeted strongly.

"Uh... h-hi?" I stuttered. Was she really hitting on someone at a CVS?

She smirked, nodding at the condoms on the shelf I was browsing. "You gonna use those on anyone?"

"Wh-What?" I was already getting really flustered at this point and just wanted to run away.

"You can use them on me if you want. I'm sure you're great in bed."

"U-Um, I'm not really the one using them-"

"Well, if you're getting them for a friend, I'm sure you could get a box for yourself. You're 18, right?" she added, realizing she could be in pretty big trouble if I wasn't.

I blushed deeper. "Y-Yeah, but... um..."

She clicked her tongue. "Ohhh, is it your first time? I promise I'll make it an experience you won't forget."

"I'm not really interested..."

"C'mon, you'll like it. I mean, why would a guy pass up a chance to lose his v-card?"

"I'm taken, sorry."

"But you said you're not interested in using them?"

"I... um..."

"Well, we don't have to start off that strong. What's your number?"

"They're for my b-boyfriend!" I finally managed to blurt out. "He's... um... using them on me."

Her eyes widened and she just mumbled, "Oh, shit. Sorry."

I watched in relief as she ran back to her friends, all of whom were laughing their heads off. I was still blushing bright pink, so I just grabbed the first standard-size condom box I saw and dashed off to find the lube. As I got out of eyesight of the girl and her friends, I took a second to see what type I got. It was a pale blue box with purple highlights and read "Ultra thin" in a weirdly futuristic font. Well, it should at least work.

I looped back around the sexual health aisle next to the one with the condoms, and sure enough, there were plenty of lubes. I looked at a few on one side, but all of them said "Not Condom Safe," so I skipped the rest on that side and looked at the others. These ones didn't have that warning, so I grabbed two bottles and made my way to checkout. 

After paying and receiving a receipt that was literally as tall as George because I was too socially inept to answer "no" to the cashier when she asked, I ran out to my car and dumped the stuff in the passenger seat. I took out my phone and turned off "Do Not Disturb" to see that George had texted me. I opened the messages.

 **George:** im getting gas for my car so i might not be home when you come back  
 **George:** sry  
 **Clay:** its fine  
 **Clay:** i got the stuff  
 **Clay:** are u back now  
 **George:** ye  
 **Clay:** alr  
 **Clay:** i have a really funny story to tell you when i get there  
 **George:** oml i can already imagine  
 **George:** sorry if it was akward  
 **Clay:** its awkward  
 **Clay:** theres a w  
 **George: 😐  
Clay: **☹️  
 **George: 😏✊🍆💦**  
 **Clay:** i-  
 **Clay:** that escalated quickly  
 **George: 🍆💦👅🥴**  
 **Clay:** LMAO STOP  
 **Clay:** anyway i need to drive now  
 **Clay:** ly gogy  
 **George:** ly2 clay💖  
 **Clay:** 💖💗💓💝💘

Wheezing, I put away my phone and pulled out of the parking lot. George's house wasn't far from the CVS and the drive was barely 4 minutes before I pulled up next to his house, taking his parents' usual parking spot. I grabbed the stuff from the passenger seat and rang the doorbell.

The door opened and I was greeted by a shirtless George. Though I seen him shirtless countless times, right now he was wearing sweatpants and it definitely looked like he was going commando. I blushed for the umpteenth time that day as he giggled at my misfortune.

"What are you waiting for? Come on in." He put an arm around my shoulders and led me inside his home. I looked around at the familiar sights and smiled when I saw a framed picture on the TV shelf. It was a picture of George and I on the couch, leaning onto each other. His mom took it the night after prom last year, when George and I decided to sleep on the couch together. It was framed neatly but not too extravagantly, giving it a very homely look.

I followed George up to his room and we both sat down on his bed. My eyes trailed down to his waist, but I quickly looked back up at his beautiful face as he smiled adorably.

"Can I... um... take off my shirt?" I asked.

"Of course."

I pulled my shirt up and over my head and tossed it to the side. I scooted so I was sitting in front of George and I leaned back into his arms. I put everything I bought on his nightstand and snuggled between his outstretched legs. He laid his head on my shoulder and pulled me in for a hug. We stayed like that for a while before he asked, "So, what happened at the pharmacy?"

"This one girl came up to me when I was getting the condoms and was, like, hitting on me."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh my God. What did she say?"

I giggled. "She was like, 'Are you going to use those on anyone?'"

"She _what-_ Actually, better question, who even flirts at the CVS?"

"I dunno! That's why it was so awkward."

"How did you answer?"

"I... um... told her that my boyfriend was using them on me."

He sighed, which turned into an airy laugh. "Well, you're not wrong, but did you really have to be that blunt?"

"She kept bothering me. Sorry."

"No, it's fine," he said, laughing. "Thanks for dealing with that."

"It wasn't that bad."

"Still." We both closed our eyes, fully embracing the other's hold. George's back was smooth and slightly muscular. Smiling, I leaned more into his chest and lolled my head to the side.

"I love you so much, you know that?" I whispered, caressing his thigh.

He pressed his face into my hair. I could feel his smile as he said, "I love you more."

"That's impressive, 'cause I love you to the moon."

"Well, I love you more than that."

I was beaming as we cuddled on his bed for a while, holding onto one another tightly. After maybe a minute or two, George asked, "What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Hm... what can you make?"

"Lots of things. I want you to choose."

I thought for a moment of what I would want for breakfast. Then I had a really perfect idea. "Hm... How about chocolate chip pancakes?"

"That sounds amazing. I'll make some tomorrow morning." He ruffled my hair and left his hand there as he hugged my head to his chest. I felt his slow, calm breathing through his soft chest.

"What do you want to do until we... y'know?"

"Fuck?" I choked at his bluntness, but he continued, "Hm... Want to watch some YouTube?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, still wheezing.

As I calmed down, I had to get out of his lap to let him reach for his Switch and open the YouTube app, controller in hand. I laid my head into his crossed legs and we watched some videos, wasting away the last few hours of the day. I was nearly dozing off, but kept myself awake because I was invested in the content we were watching. After many videos, the sky turned dark outside George's window, and I cleared my throat.

"H-Hey, um, George?"

"Yeah?" He seemed to know what I was about to ask but was too nervous to say it.

"Are you... ready?"

"Are you?" he asked.

I put it bluntly, my body and mind entering a sort of horny daze. "Yes."

"Okay."

He reached out and fiddled with the box of condoms, taking one out and putting it next to the lube. "What else... Um... I'll go get a towel for the bed, I guess."

"Alright."

He went to grab a towel and I hooked my thumbs around my waistband, mentally preparing myself for the night. I dropped my pants and underwear right as George came back with the towel, causing him to blush deeply.

"O-Oh. Sorry." He looked at the ground, but his gaze slowly went back up to my naked body. I was flustered, but considering what we were about to do, I simply kicked my discarded pants away and approached George, reaching out to cup his jaw and lean in for a kiss. My other hand slipped down to his waist and fiddled with the hem of his pants. Just as I thought, he wasn't wearing underwear.

"Can I?" I asked, pulling back from the kiss.

With no hesitation, he said, "Yeah."

With one last deep breath, I pulled George's pants down and looked down, mentally preparing.

This was going to be a wild night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no smut in this book; however, there is a separate work that you can find here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29771535
> 
> I really want to drive home that you do NOT need to read this to understand the story. This is completely optional and only for people who want to read it. The book is fine being read without it, so do not feel pressured to look at if it makes you uncomfortable.


	9. Fluffy Pancakes

I couldn't really describe how I felt this morning. I was sore in a few places and felt extremely tired, but at the same time, I felt comfy and warm. George was cuddling me close, occasionally rubbing my abs gently. My bottom lip also felt a little puffy from someone biting it, but it wasn't very bothersome.

I opened my eyes and scanned the room, looking at our mess. The soiled towel lay far away from all of our other clothes and the bottle of lube on the bedstand was almost half empty. The condom wrapper lay among the mess, though luckily the rubber itself was nowhere to be seen. The room smelled like sweat and must. Though that smell wasn't unusual for George's room, right now, it was a lot worse.

After a moment, I found the strength to move my arm and hold my boyfriend's hand that was laying on my waist.

"'Morning, Clay," he yawned.

"Mmm," I mumbled, rolling my head over so I was facing him.

"How are you feeling? You okay?" He readjusted his grip on my waist to be more comfortable.

I smiled, snuggling deeper into his grasp. "I'm fine. Just tired."

George craned his neck over to his alarm clock. "It's almost 11 AM. We slept a long time, huh?"

"Yeah." I rolled over again and reached toward the ceiling, stretching. My boyfriend readjusted his grip to be around my chest, kissing my neck lightly. I dropped my arms to wrap one around his head and pull him in for a side hug, using the other to rub my eyes drowsily. 

"Kiss?" he asked.

I turned my head to the side and gave him a look. "Yeah." 

We leaned in for a kiss, being a bit more passionate about it than usual. Our hands found the other's and locked together tightly, our fingers entwining.

After we pulled away, George giggled softly. "So... Breakfast or cuddles?"

"Cuddles," I answered without hesitation.

"Okay." He tightened his hold on me and continued kissing my neck, his breath tickling me softly. I turned toward him and gripped his waist with my legs. It was in doing this that I realized we were both still naked. It made sense, considering last night, but I blushed all the same.

George seemed to realize too. He flushed pink and mumbled, "Um... we can get our clothes on if you want."

I shrugged. Though I was a little flustered, I was fine with it. "Only if you want, but I'm fine."

"Okay. I'm fine too."

A few more minutes of cuddling passed before George was getting fidgety. It seemed like he wanted to get up and do something, and I couldn't blame him, since we had been in basically the same position in bed for the last 12 hours.

"I'm hungry," I said, wanting to prompt him to make his promised breakfast.

"Aww, hungy baby," he teased, leaning his head into my shoulder. "In that case, since we both smell like shit, I'm gonna shower first and then make the pancakes. Unless..."

He trailed off like he expected me to finish his sentence, but I wasn't catching on. "Unless what?"

"Um... Unless you wanna shower together?"

"Oh, um..." I thought about it for a moment. While it would be intimate and would save water, I didn't want either of us to get any raunchy ideas in there because I was still worn out from last night. "Maybe next time, but you should really make the pancakes soon. And... uh... we might take a long time in there if we go together."

"True," he agreed. "Alright, I'll hop in really quick."

"Yeah."

I let George out of my arms so he could go take a shower and lay on the bed, butt-naked. It was really hot in his room, so even with no blanket or clothes, I was still really warm. As I got more comfortable, though, my eyes threatened to close again, so I sat up on the edge of the bed so I wouldn't fall asleep. Eventually, George stepped out of the bathroom, fully clothed, and called, "I'm gonna go make breakfast now, babe."

"Okay," I responded, reaching for George's closet to grab my set of spare clothes that I kept there. The only clothes George has that fit me are his hoodie and a few pairs of his sweatpants, but everything else was just too small, so I left some of my spare clothes at his house since I often visited on a whim and didn't prepare a change of clothes.

I brought those clothes into George's bathroom and turned the water back on. I was getting ready to step in when I noticed something in the mirror. Taking a closer look, I saw that had two brownish-purple spots on my neck and collarbone. I reached up to touch them but pressing down, they didn't feel too out of the ordinary, as if it were a very shallow bruise. I was confused only for a split second before I realized what they were.

Hickeys. George had given me hickeys.

I chuckled exasperatedly to myself. I remember that I did ask for it, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't regret it now. I mean, I couldn't go to the Halloween party looking like this, let alone school. I slipped into the shirt I brought to test what would be covered, praying that they would both be concealed. While the one on my collarbone was covered, the one on my neck was unfortunately not. Sighing, I took off the shirt and got in the shower, wondering what I should do about them.

The shower was blissfully hot as I checked my body for any more marks, but besides the hickeys, I was completely unmarked. Well, that means fewer things I have to cover, but the hickey on my neck was still a blatant issue. I would have to ask my sister for her concealer.

I wrapped up my shower and got dressed, going downstairs to harass George about the hickeys. When I arrived in his kitchen, he was wearing an apron that made him look exceptionally cute as he stirred some pancake batter.

"Hey," he smiled. "How was your shower?"

"It was good, but look what you did to me."

He turned around to face me and I pointed at the hickey on my neck, sticking out against the pale-ish skin.

He winced apologetically. "Oh, shit, um... sorry, Clay. I... wasn't really thinking straight..."

"Neither was I. I mean, to be fair, I wouldn't expect either of us to think straight when you're balls deep in my ass."

"If you're joking like that, I'm assuming you're okay with it," he scoffed. "But just to make sure, are you upset about it at all?"

"Nah, don't worry about it. I could never be upset at you anyway." I brought him in for a hug that he happily melted into, wrapping his arms under mine.

He giggled. "I love you so much, Clay."

"I love you too, Gogurt."

He wheezed into my chest as I grabbed the spoon from his hands and stirred the pancake mix slowly, still holding George close. After a while, he leaned back and resumed his position stirring the pancake mix. They apparently didn't need much more stirring since he soon started pouring it onto the pan to bake them.

"Still, I really wasn't expecting it to be that noticeable," George said, nodding at my neck as the pancake batter sizzled on the pan.

I sat down and sighed. "Me neither, but I think my sister has some concealer I can borrow. I'll have to use it when we stop by my house to get our costumes. Hopefully my dad doesn't see anything."

"Oh yeah, the party. I almost forgot."

"You still wanna go?"

"Why wouldn't I? You sound like my mom- Wait, what about my parents!?" George blurted, panicking. "What're they gonna say? My room definitely smells like sex, and you have that thing on your neck. Fuck... They're gonna be back soon, too. Like, probably 5 minutes."

I nodded, jumping out of my seat. "I'll go clean your room real quick. What should I do with the prep?"

"Just put in the drawer."

"Alright. Where's your air freshener?"

"I think we're all out. Just open the window or something."

"Alright."

I dashed upstairs, throwing the door open to George's room. I hid the lube and condoms in the top drawer, piled the soiled towel with all of our other clothes to bring downstairs and wash, and opened the windows, seeing George's parents' car driving down the street. I came running down the stairs in time to throw the laundry in the washing machine. Right as I came out of the laundry room, George's parents opened the front door.

"Hey, guys!" George's mom greeted, setting her luggage down and smelling the scent of the pancakes coming from the kitchen. "You two making pancakes?"

"You guys want any?" George offered, flipping a pancake. He seemed surprisingly composed, in contrast to myself, who was more than a little bit messy.

"I'll be good," she chuckled.

"Me too," George's dad added.

George shrugged. "More for us, then."

George's mom looked at their cat, giving him a few pats before saying, "One of the pumpkins I put outside rolled over. I'm going to go fix that. By the way, Clay, what did you do to your neck?"

"Wh-What?" I stuttered, flushing bright red. She nodded at the side of my neck with the hickey on it. I slapped my hand up to the mark on my neck and blushed even deeper, cursing myself for not getting a hoodie or something to cover it up. "O-Oh, um... nothing."

She looked at George, who was also flustered and trying to hide it by focusing on the pancakes. She seemed to understand exactly what happened, judging by her knowing look as she walked out the door to fix the pumpkin. George's dad raised his eyebrows, looking a little concerned. "George, did you two... um..."

George slid some pancakes onto a plate, refusing to look at his father. "Uh... Don't worry, there's a clause for pretty much our case with ages. We'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I assured him. "Trust me, I made sure. Plus, not like anyone's gonna call the police on us."

"That's not a good way of thinking about it, Clay," George's dad said. The three of us stared blankly at each other. "But I'll stop asking questions now because I can tell this is getting awkward."

"Thank you," George said, grabbing some whipped cream and syrup. I got us some forks and knives while he brought out the plates. As we sat down to eat, George mentioned, "Oh, yeah. There's a Halloween party tonight. Can I go?"

"What's that about a party?" George's mom asked, walking back in.

"Apparently there's a Halloween party tonight," his dad responded, looking a little amused. "I'm fine with letting him go. What about you?"

She thought for a moment. "Hm... What time?"

"8 to 3."

"Absolutely not," she snapped. "Your birthday is tomorrow."

"Please? I can go home early if you want."

"George-" she sighed, stopping her sentence to consider it at George's pleading. "In that case, maybe. Where is it?"

"Dave's house. He's in our grade," George added, trying to convince her.

"Oh, I know him, his dad's on the PTA. They're close enough to Clay's..." She put her chin in her hand thoughtfully. "You know what? I guess you can go, but be at Clay's by 1 AM."

"Alright," George responded quickly, smiling.

"I'll make sure to bring him back by then," I added to improve George's case.

His mom smiled. "Thank you, Clay. You're so good for him."

I blushed. "Uh... yeah. No problem."

George's parents went off to put their luggage away, leaving George and me to have our pancakes. They were delicious - George did an amazing job for sure. As we were happily eating our breakfast, our hands slid together on the table. I was playing with George's soft fingers when he moved away to grab the whipped cream.

"Clay, look," he said. I turned my head to see him with his tongue out and the whipped cream can pointed over it. He slowly pressed the nozzle down and looked at me suggestively as he licked around his lips, covering his face and tongue in whipped cream.

"Oh my God, George," I laughed. "You're so gross."

"Mmph." His mouth was full of whipped cream, so he swallowed and said, "Maybe, but it tastes good."

I scoffed. "Yeah. But you're wasting all your whipped cream."

"True." He put the can down and focused on finishing his pancakes. I rolled my eyes and did the same. Soon, George's parents returned, luckily oblivious to the stupid thing George just did. We both cleaned up our plates and returned to George's room, collapsing onto his bed and cuddling each other happily.

"Ugh, it still smells awful in here," George stated, covering his nose with his shirt. "What should we do?"

"I think we've done all we can," I sighed defeatedly.

"True," he admitted. "But it still smells bad."

"Guess we can just cuddle here for now."

"Yeah." He ruffled my hair, bringing my head into his chest. He grinned down at me. "I love you, Clay."

"I love you too, George."

We sat like that for several minutes. I wasn't afraid to admit that this was one of my favorite things to do. I loved getting affection and George loved to give affection, so our dynamic was perfect.

"George, um... Have you ever thought about the future? Like... after graduation?"

He sighed thoughtfully. "Sometimes. What do you think about?"

"I guess... Living together and... m-marriage."

"It's a little early to think of that."

"I know, but I do anyway."

He smiled weakly. "It's not a bad thing, Clay."

I hugged him tighter, feeling cozy. "Thanks."

"But now I'm curious," he chuckled. "Would you want to get married?"

"I... uh... yeah," I mumbled. "I would love to. Not anytime soon, obviously, but just... eventually."

He stroked my hair. "Same. Imagine buying a house together and cooking dinner for each other and stuff."

"I was thinking more walking down the aisle and going on our honeymoon, but that's also something to look forward to."

"Well, that's important too," he cooed. "Where would we go for our honeymoon? If you could go anywhere in the world, where money wasn't an issue?"

"If I could go anywhere?" I thought for a moment, imagining places in my head. "Somewhere cold, but pretty."

"So... Iceland?"

"That would work, although I was thinking somewhere that's colder than here. Pretty sure most places are colder than Florida, so we don't need to go that far. I mean, we could probably go to - I dunno, Maryland? - and it'd probably be colder."

He wheezed. "True, true. Then... what about England?"

"Ooh. Are we gonna meet your ancestors? I need to thank them for giving me such a cute boyfriend."

He rolled his eyes bashfully, mumbling, "M-Maybe."

"You sure get flustered a lot," I grinned.

"So do you, you big baby."

"You are shorter than me. Shush."

"That's why you're a _big_ baby."

"Quiet, small person."

He scoffed, holding my head into his chest as I wheezed at his denial. In this position, I got comfortable quickly and started drifting off despite waking up less than an hour ago, I was fine with napping until tonight's party. So that's what I did, dozing in George's arms. He didn't seem to mind all that much, simply pulling out his phone when he detected me falling asleep.

Many minutes passed until I moved again at George's voice. "Get up, sleepyhead." 

He was shaking me lightly. When I protested with a whine, he shook me more aggressively.

"Alright, alright, I'm up," I groaned loudly. "What happened?"

"My mom is making us have dinner before we leave."

"That's nice of her," I yawned, stretching out. "What time is it?"

"6:30."

"What- we have 2 and a half hours until the party! Lemme sleep."

"She apparently wants to give us some rules for the party. Plus, the dinner's already made."

"Fine, okay. Let's go, then."

We dashed down the stairs and saw two plates of food set out for us. As we started eating, George's mom sat across from us and started listing off some rules in a harsh voice. "George, I expect you to follow everything I say." In a softer voice, she added, "And, Clay, I know I'm not your guardian, but please at least consider these things."

"I will," I promised genuinely. I could trust her with pretty much anything, so I'm certain her advice would be nothing short of fact. 

"Thank you. Anyways, to begin with, just be safe. Watch yourdrinks, don't take offers from people you don't know, and stay either with each other or someone that you're really familiar with like Nick or Alex or Darryl."

"Bad," George corrected.

"Yes, him. But just make sure you're with someone at all times. I know it's only school people, but I wouldn't trust them unless I knew them really well.."

"Yeah, got it," George answered.

"Good. Lastly, I forbid either of you to do drugs or drink alcohol. It's a senior-only party, right? No one older?"

George nodded. "Yeah."

"Still, there might be someone who brings something. That being said, don't worry about anyone pressuring you to do them - it'll most likely be somebody announcing that they brought coke or beer or something. However, if either of you is hungover, there will be hell to pay."

"Understood," I answered, finishing my meal. George only nodded in agreement, as he was still chewing his.

Her expression softened slightly as she leaned back and smiled, "Alright, that's all. Remember, be at Clay's house by 1 AM. And come here by 11."

"I will," George promised.

"Alright, once you clean up, you can go." She waved us away to clean up our plates and get in my car. We had about an hour until the party began, meaning we were making decent time. I pulled into my driveway and we went into my house to grab some stuff.

George and I went to my room and he started putting on his Jesse costume that I had laid out. The Pumpkaboo plush was laying next to my costume, but before I got it on, I needed to get concealer for the mark on my neck.

I leaned my head into my sister's room, mumbling, "Um, Cassie?"

"Yeah?" she asked, pausing her music. 

"Do... Do you have concealer?"

She titled her head to the side in curiosity. "Uh, yeah. Do you need it for your costume?

"Um... sort of?"

"Do you know how to use it?"

"I'm sure I'll figure it out," I shrugged, carefully hiding the mark on my neck with my hand.

She scoffed. "Well, it's in my drawer in the bathroom. Don't use too much."

"I won't."

I strutted into the bathroom and pulled the drawer open, fishing out the cylindrical container and opening it. I brushed a little bit of it on my neck and considered how it looked. I'm pretty white, but somehow the concealer stuck out almost as much as the hickey itself because it was so pale. Well, it's better than nothing, and even if someone could tell, they wouldn't know it was a hickey that was being covered. I brushed some more on and rubbed it in, content. It was still noticeable, but not awful. I went back to Cassie and asked for her opinion, assuming I did pretty well.

Her eyes went wide when she saw it. "Clay- how did you- oh my God, that's so _awful_."

I started backing up, knowing what she would probably suggest. "It's not that bad-"

"No, it is that bad," she sighed, exasperated. "Let me help you."

"Uh- it's- I'm fine, really," I stuttered. I did not need her seeing the hickey, mostly because I wouldn't hear the end of it.

"Nope, no way I'm letting you go out looking like that with _my_ concealer. Sit."

"I'm fine-"

"Clay, you can either sit your ass down and let me do your makeup or not have any at all, because I'm not letting you try again and waste all of my concealer."

Reluctantly, I sat in her desk chair as she dashed into the bathroom, coming back with the concealer and a makeup wipe. I was silently panicking - I really shouldn't have asked her at all because now, no matter what I do, she'll suspect something. It's truly a lose-lose scenario.

After weighing my options, I decided to give in. I might as well let her give me a well-done concealer job and face the embarrassment of her seeing the mark.

That embarrassment came when she wiped the spot on my neck, her concentrated look turning into an evil grin.

"No fucking way!" she wheezed, stepping back for a better look. "Clay, is that a _hickey_?"

"Sh-Shut up," I mumbled, blushing. I wanted to reach up and cover it, but right now, she was starting to get the concealer on.

After calming down a bit, she bent down to start applying some of the concealer, smirking, "So, I'm guessing you bottomed?"

"I-I... How do you know about that stuff?"

"You think I don't know about gay culture?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

I rolled my eyes back at her. "Uh, yeah? Why would you know about that?"

"Gay fanfictions give me life."

If I was drinking something, I would have spat it out. "You read gay fanfiction?"

"You don't?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"No, what? Why would I do that?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. I just thought you'd be the fanfic type."

"Fanfic type- Cassie, just shut up."

"I'm not gonna stop teasing you until I finish with this concealer."

"Then hurry up."

"You can't rush art."

"How is this art?"

"Shush," she cackled. "Oh, and, by the way, I've been finished for a long time, but I just wanted to annoy you."

"I hate you."

"Not even a thank you for doing the makeup?"

"Nope," I stated. "You're never gonna let this go, aren't you?"

"Never."

"Fuck." I got out of the chair and sighed, annoyed.

She laughed. "Have fun!"

I left her room with a glare and returned to my room to see George sitting on my bed, holding the Pumpkaboo plushie gently.

He nodded at my neck. "Hey. Looks like you got that covered pretty well."

I sighed. "Yeah, but now my sister knows."

"I- Did you tell her?"

I looked down in shame. "I didn't tell her. She forced me to let her do the makeup and she saw the hickey."

He laughed nervously. "Uh... Well, nothing we can do now. Get your costume on and let's go."

"Yeah." I struggled with my costume, pulling on the two shirts and the pants with much difficulty. The pseudo-boots were even harder, but I got them on eventually. However, by that time, it was nearly 7:40.

"Shit, we gotta go," I said, checking the time. "Let's get in the car."

"Yeah. Should we text your dad or something?"

"Eh, he won't question if I bring you here. And he probably wouldn't let me anyway."

"Alright then." He grabbed the plush and made his way to the garage as I followed shortly behind. We pulled out of the driveway and made our way to Dave's house, ready for a great night.

Nothing could possibly go wrong as long as we stuck together, right?


	10. The Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the use of alcohol and underage drinking. It is very hard to read this chapter without seeing mentions of being drunk, so proceed with caution.

The walk up Dave's driveway was pretty long, considering his driveway was filled with cars all the way around despite us arriving a few minutes early. I was honestly expecting everyone to be late. His main door was open, but the storm door was closed, and I couldn't see much through the tinted glass. I held the door open for my boyfriend and together, we stepped inside.

The Halloween music was loudly pounding in our ears as soon as we walked in. I saw lots of people in many different costumes. Everyone was still pretty calm and no one had any cups in their hands - I guess the drinks hadn't come out yet. Dave set up some LEDs around the house and flicked off the main lights, illuminating every visible room with a purple and green glow. Dave's house had a very open design, meaning I could see the kitchen, living room, and what I assumed to be the dining room, judging by the large table covered in snacks and spooky decorations. However, most of the activity seemed to be in the basement.

Dozens of costumed attendees were filling in behind us, so George and I found a corner to stand in so we weren't in anyone's way. We looked around for people we recognized, but so far, I only noticed Dave greeting some people. Soon, though, a small yet menacing figure was approaching us. They were wearing mostly black with a gray cape and a white helmet with horn-like appendages, and I recognized who it was immediately as they drew nearer.

"Hey, Alex!" I greeted. "Dude, your costume is so good. You made it, right?" 

"Yeah. I've definitely done better cosplays, but I'm still proud of how it turned out." Their voice was a little muffled through the mask that covered their entire head and then some.

"How can you see in that?" George wondered.

"Secret."

"It can't be that secret," he retorted.

Ignoring him, Alex continued, "By the way, I have your wigs. Although, your costumes do look pretty good without them. "

"I'm sure it'll look better with the wig," I said.

"Right. Well, here, try them on." They pulled out the two brightly-colored wigs from under their cloak, passing them to us. Mine came on without any issue, although Alex reached up to adjust it neater on my head. George, meanwhile, was having a lot of trouble. Once they were done with mine, Alex quickly grabbed his wig and basically put it on for him. Once they stepped back and I could get a better view of George, I was in awe. He looked amazing. Well, more amazing than usual, anyway.

"Hey, that looks great," Alex noted.

"Definitely," I added. 

"Thanks so much, Alex," George said.

"No problem."

We stood together for a while, playing catch with the Pumpkaboo plushie for a while until two more people whom we recognized came into sight.

"Hey, guys!" I called, waving at Zak and Bad, who appeared to be lost and looking for us.

"Happy Halloween, you muffins!" Bad greeted, dragging Zak with him. 

"Love the wigs," Zak commented as Bad nodded in agreement.

"George, you look great in that skirt," Bad added. He seemed to be saying it genuinely, but it got a laugh out of all of us anyway.

"Enough about our costumes, though," Alex said, once we all calmed down. "Yours are so good."

"We spent the last few days after school working on them," Zak admitted, adjusting the cardboard box that was covering his head. Neither of them had a full blocky outfit, but Bad didn't have any cubes at all - instead, he was wearing a black cloak with a red trim and a black mask. A single leather strap adorned his torso and a foam diamond sword was adhered to it on his back. He was wearing black jeans, black ankle boots, and simple gray gloves, which strayed from his source material quite liberally. That seemed to be a theme between them both, though, because, besides his cardboard head, Zak wore a bright blue hoodie with duller blue jeans.

"Yeah! It was a lot of fun," Bad said enthusiastically. "His helmet was really hard to do, though."

Zak scoffed. "Yeah, 'cause you spent the whole time baking muffins."

"Did not!" Bad retorted. "We'd have too many muffins to keep if I did that."

"Okay, muffin boy."

"Meanie." Though I could see neither of their faces, I could tell that they were fake-pouting at each other.

Alex giggled. "Don't be that way. At least Bad is good at making muffins."

"But I didn't make any muffins," he frowned. "Ooh, but now I want to. I'll see if I can get them to you by the end of tomorrow for your birthday, George."

"What?" George said, seeming to be snapped out of a light stupor while staring at me. He did that a lot before we were dating. Actually, he _still_ does it a lot. "O-Oh, you don't have to-"

Zak rolled his eyes. "That's not gonna get far with Bad, George. You should know this."

"Well, I can stop being nice if you want, Zak," Bad said sassily. 

"But I wouldn't want you any other way, Bad."

Bad's tone changed immediately. "Awh, thanks. Anyway, what flavor muffin do you want?"

George shrugged. "Oh, um... I dunno. What can you make?"

"Chocolate, chocolate chip, banana, blueberry, most of the basic stuff," Bad listed. "I can do a lot of things like berries or chocolate chips since the recipes are all pretty much the same."

"Hm... Can you do cranberries?" George suggested.

"Oooh, that's a good idea! I've never tried using those before, but I'm sure it'll be good."

"Alright, enough with the muffin talk," a deep voice behind us said, making George and Alex jump. "How are you guys doing?"

"Oh, hey, Dave," I greeted, accepting his high-five. "I think we're all doing pretty well."

"Yeah," Bad agreed.

"That's good. Love the costumes." He nodded at the group of us, indicating our outfits. "I think I'm gonna ask Kris to bring out the drinks now. She says she's going as a queen, but her outfit is way extra. You'll see."

"If she's a queen, I'm guessing you're a king?" George said, examined Dave's outfit. It was pretty lazily done, but it was clearly a king costume.

Dave fired finger guns. "You got it. Looks like you and Clay did a couple costume too."

"Yep. We're Team Rocket." I tossed the Pumpkaboo plush to George.

"I could have guessed that, dude," he laughed, looking over at the basement stairs. "But I need to get going now. See ya."

"Thanks for hosting!" Bad waved.

"See you!" Alex waved.

After Dave left, I checked the time on my phone. "Nick and Emily are already really late. I wonder where they are?"

"We're right here," a voice said.

"Oh shit- Hi, guys." I turned around to see them, but I almost ran into Nick, who took up a few feet of space in any direction with his huge costume.

"Nick, what the _fuck_ is that?" George wheezed, pointing at Nick's bulky costume.

"Language!" Bad scolded. "Both of you!"

"Is that... uh... heavy?" Alex asked, seeming concerned.

He shrugged - at least, it looked like he did, since the costume moved up slightly as his arms did. "A little. It feels like wearing a heavy jacket."

"Emily, how are you doing?" Bad asked, ignoring everyone else laughing at Nick (including Nick himself).

She smiled. "I'm doing fine. It was a pain to get this nimrod into Dave's house, though."

"Did you drive with it on or something?" I wondered, confused.

She shook her head. "God, no. We put it on in front of the house. He had to go in sideways because his arms wouldn't fit in the door."

"We?" Bad questioned, tilting his head curiously.

"It takes both of us to get it on," she giggled. "We found that out when he fell over the first time and couldn't get up."

"Shhh," Nick hushed, laughing with her. "They don't need to know that."

"Well, I helped him up in the end," she added.

Nick frowned. "Yeah, but I couldn't give you a hug 'cause of how wide this thing is."

"I can still give you a hug, though." She wrapped her arms around the very round Nick, who looked a little flustered for once.

"Th-Thanks," he mumbled quietly. He didn't seem uncomfortable - just not used to getting affection. I could say that with confidence because that was how I was at first and I acted almost the same way.

"No problem," Emily laughed, ruffling his hair.

"Alright, lovebirds, let's start this party," Dave said, having returned to us with an iconic Solo cup in hand - except it was orange because it was Halloween. "Knock yourself out, but make sure you have a ride if you're gonna get drunk."

I shrugged. "Yeah. I don't plan on drinking if anyone wants to drive with me."

"That's nice of you, Clay." He smiled and gave me a fistbump before backing away again. "Anyway, I'd love to stay, but I need to let everybody know about the drinks, so... See you later!" 

Dave went off to go talk to other people as I asked, "How about you, George? You gonna drink any?"

My boyfriend shrugged. "If you're not, then... I might try some."

"I'm not too interested in it," Zak stated.

"Well, it can't hurt if I'm careful," Bad decided, looking interested. "I'll probably have some, if it's okay with Zak."

Zak nodded in agreement, shrugging, "Sure, go ahead." 

Nick spoke up loudly as usual, rebounding from his brief moment of being flustered. "Same here. I wanna get wasted."

"Nick, please. Just because Clay can drive us doesn't mean you can get shitfaced drunk."

"Well, do you guys need me to drive you?" I offered.

Nick looked like he was about to agree, but his girlfriend cut him off.

"Thanks, but we already drove and I don't want to leave his car here overnight," Emily reasoned. "I'll just make sure to not drink much."

I nodded. "Alright then. Alex?"

"I won't be drinking any," they stated bluntly. "Not interested."

"Cool. Now that we've all decided that, let's get some food and shit."

"Language!"

Laughing, the seven of us departed for the basement. After a small partition of glass, it was completely opened to the outside and the temperate air was refreshing. To our left was the bar, which wasn't just a makeshift for tonight - Dave just has a bar in his house. It was here where a concerning amount of people not old enough to drink were downing some alcohol. Dave's girlfriend was behind the bar, pouring drinks with professional skill. Now that I mention it, I'm pretty sure she works part-time as a bartender. As Dave had said, her costume was really extra - her dark purple cloak trailed a few feet behind her and the crown on her head looked like it weighed at least a few pounds.

We all travelled over, half of us drifting towards the bar and the rest going toward the opposite side where there were self-served soft drinks and water. I waited until it was less crowded before helping myself to some Coke in the latter area. I got another cup for George since he most likely could not make the whole party on a few cups of beer or whatever it was. Both of the cups I grabbed were purple since it was my favorite color out of the ones available. George met up with me in front of the bar, looking at his cup nervously.

"How is it?" I asked, indicating the cup in his hand. It was a black cup, though the liquid inside was light brown and foamy at the top. It must have been beer.

"I haven't had any yet. I was gonna wait until I was with you just in case I pass out or something."

"I don't think it happensthat fast, George," I chuckled. "But you are pretty small, so you might actually pass out if you have too much."

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, let's see how this tastes."

I watched closely as he took a sip of his drink, stopping for a moment, and taking a gulp.

"How's it taste?"

"It's... kinda awful, not gonna lie. But I want some more," he added, drinking a little bit more. "It tastes like bread."

I gave him the Coke I got him so he wouldn't rush through his beer. "Alright, slow down there. Dave said only 3 per person."

George looked at me like I was crazy. "Dude, he said 3 per hour."

"What?"

"Yeah," Nick agreed. He'd already spilled some on the plastic exterior of his costume, which he was wiping off with a napkin. 

"How can he afford that?" I wondered. "That's 21 drinks through the whole night and there's, like, 200 people here. That's 4200 if everyone only has one, and even if only half of the people here drink-"

Nick groaned. "Please shut up with the math. I came here to party."

George nodded, adding. "Clay, he literally has a bar in his house. I think he can afford anything."

"Fair point." I was still baffled at the whole "3 drinks per hour" thing, but I wasn't going to worry too much as long as George didn't take advantage of that because I'm pretty sure he would actually die.

Nick scoffed. "Anyway, I'm not hungry yet, but the good snacks might be gone if we wait too long. You guys want to go have some food?"

George shrugged. "Sure. Where'd the rest go?"

"Alex went to the bathroom to fix up their costume a little bit," Emily stated. "But I don't know where Bad and Zak went." 

Nick shrugged. "Well, they can text us if they need us. Let's go get food."

"Yeah," George agreed.

We departed back to the main floor, drinks in hand. George seemed sober enough for now, but I knew that it would probably hit him hard soon.

The snacks were almost 100 percent candy, in classic Halloween fashion. I immediately grabbed some sweet stuff and started eating it. George, Nick, and Emily were doing the same, but only Nick could stomach much more than a few pieces.

When we all finished eating, we went to where the music was loudest back in the basement. A DJ was standing out in front of the pool, playing a mix of Halloween and general party songs. 

"Wanna dance?" I asked, smirking at George.

"Alright. Nothing too crazy so I don't drop my drinks."

"You're on."

George and I got into a little rhythm without our hands, stepping around each other's feet. Nick and Emily drifted off to do their own thing, leaving George and me to our devices in the crowd. He was looking up at me with sparkly eyes, which never failed to take my breath away. He looked at me expectantly, leaning up with his lips out. I leaned down to meet his lips, our noses bumping lightly as we gave each other a short kiss. I subconsciously broke away as fast as possible because I could taste the beer in his breath and I hated it. After we broke apart, we continued to do that little shimmy for a while until I almost tripped over myself and stumbled, spilling a little bit of Coke on my costume.

"Let's not try that again," he laughed.

"Yeah. Don't want to make a huge mess," he laughed. Suddenly, though, he gave a little wince and snuggled his face into my chest.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked, patting his wig-covered head.

"Nothing, just... started felt a little sick."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What? That's not good."

He leaned back from my chest and smiled up at me. "Pretty sure it's just because it's my first time having alcohol. I think I'll have another drink to numb it."

"I dunno..."

"C'mon, it'll be fine. It can't make it worse if I can't feel it, right?" 

His logic seemed flawed, but then again, I didn't know much about alcohol either. "I guess... Only one more for now, though."

When George got his refill, I was watching him with concern. I'm in no way entitled to choose what he did or didn't do at the party, but I really didn't want him to get super sick or pass out or something. I wasn't too worried about his mom for myself, but George might get in serious trouble with his parents. I had to stop thinking about that when he returned with his drink, though, and we lingered around the dance area for a while more before we bumped into Nick and Emily again. 

"I'mma go get more drinks," Nick announced, downing the last bit of his alcohol.

"Nick, you finished another? You too, George?"

George nodded. "Yeah. I think I might grab some more too."

Emily shook her head. "I told him that he's going to pass out if he has more. Both of you will."

"I'll be fine," George said, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm not even that drunk yet."

I frowned thoughtfully. "You probably will be soon. It's still your first time."

"C'mon, please?" he pleaded.

"No," I refused. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm with Clay," Emily agreed. "You guys have never had alcohol before and you're suddenly downing 3 cups of beer in an hour." 

Nick scoffed. "Why are you so concerned? Lots of people can manage this stuff all the time."

"Well, I don't know about you, Nick, but George... is... well... kinda tiny." I giggled. "And less body mass means that you don't have much alcohol tolerance. That plus this being your first time, even that one drink is gonna get you wasted."

"I am _not_ tiny!" he scoffed.

I giggled. "You are literally the smallest boyfriend I've ever had."

"No I'm nooot," he pouted. His voice was a little slurred and fluctuated strangely. It seemed that, like I predicted, he had gotten super drunk. "Wait."

I nodded. "Mhm."

"Well, you're still being a meanie." He frowned at me adorably.

"I mean, you're, like, what, 5'4?"

"I'm 5'9," he corrected drunkenly. "Just 'cause you're 6'3 doesn't mean you can underestimate my - _hic_ \- height."

"Yeah, sure, whatever." I brought him in for a squishing hug, putting our drinks on the table next to us and caging his head in with mine. His wig was a little bit irritating on my face, but I didn't mind too much. My idea was to keep him in a hug until he was less insistent on getting another drink, which was admittedly a naive plan, but at least we both got some enjoyment out of it.

"Let me get more," he whined, trying to get out of my grasp.

I refused to let him go. "No. You're too drunk."

"Please?"

"No."

"You can't hold me foreverrrr."

"Don't tempt me," I chuckled.

I looked over to see that Emily was having similar trouble with Nick, compounded by the fact that he had a costume that took up 3 times the amount of space he normally did. As her boyfriend was stumbling around, she was muttering, "Let's put this thing back in the car if you're gonna get this wasted."

Emily guided him away, presumably to drop off Nick's costume. I was left holding George, who was now grabbing my shirt tightly and smiling.

"I'm gonna go to England," he mumbled.

"Yeah, yeah," I giggled. At this point, I was almost regretting going to the party at all. Sure, it was fun, but George was getting way too drunk for us to do anything fun without it being at least somewhat dangerous. The change was sudden, too - not gradual like I had expected. Looking down at his still beautiful face, I noticed his cheeks were rosy and his eyes seemed a little unfocused. After hugging for a while, we finally met up with Bad, Zak, and Alex again, all of whom were smiling happily. 

"Where did you muffins run off to?" Bad asked. Like George, his voice was slurred and he drew out his words, obviously drunk. However, despite the amount of alcohol that was impairing him, he was still being wholesome.

"We've been down here," I said. "Did you not see us when they got their beers?"

Zak shook his head. "Nope. We went back upstairs after getting him some beer and me some Fanta."

"Aw, man, they had Fanta?" George asked, looking interested. "Gimme."

"Finish your Coke first, then I'll get you some," I assured him, patting his back. He quickly drank his soda and burped loudly, giving me his cup expectantly. I obliged, quickly going filling it up with Fanta instead. He's acting like a toddler, but since he's not an actual toddler and wouldn't learn anything from this, it's getting sort of annoying.

Luckily, I had an excuse to get us to do something that didn't involve me being a chaperone to him constantly when Dave, using a megaphone, called, "We're showing movies outside! C'mon!" I don't even know how he got a megaphone, but I was eager to go.

He seemed to have already called this on the 1st floor since an influx of people were coming down toward his basement to enter the backyard, where there was a projector aimed at the wall. That seemed to be why Alex, Zak, and Bad returned downstairs since they were having a conversation with Nick and Emily, who had just returned, about it. Both of them were back in normal clothes, having discarded their costumes.

Ignoring them for a moment, I asked, "George, wanna go watch a movie?"

"Okayy. What're we watching?"

"Dunno. Let's see."

Dave's backyard is huge. Though his house would definitely work as a beachfront property, it isn't, so it instead has an enormous pool with a diving board and slide. It was heated, meaning it was still open right now, and underwater LEDs illuminated the water bright green, making it look like ghastly slime. No one was swimming in it, but I'm sure that would change as people got drunker.

At the moment, people were taking a seat on the grass in front of the projector, where Dave was starting a movie. I sat down next to George, wrapping my arm around his shoulders to keep him close. He was drinking loudly but was otherwise silent as the title card showed what movie we were watching - IT. I'd watched the movie before, but George hadn't, so this would be his first time. It's probably not a good idea to watch it drunk, but then again, it's better than chaperoning him around for an hour or two.

We got comfortable on the surprisingly plush grass, George leaning his tired head onto my shoulder. I wrapped my arm over his shoulders and pulled him in closer as the movie started. Having seen it before, I wasn't as scared by the scares, but George jumped every few minutes and occasionally yelped loudly. I always brought him in for a brief hug before returning to our old position.

Eventually, one thing scared him so badly he grabbed my chest, squeezing so hard I thought my ribs would break.

"Oof- George, let go," I panted, gently trying to push him off.

"Fiiine." He released me before promptly making me more immobile by clambering onto my lap and sitting there, taking a long sip of his soda. I sighed, simply wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head on his shoulder. I was too tired to do anything besides watch the movie and honestly wasn't all that bothered with the position.

At least, I was fine until George started moving his hips in a weird way. I thought he was just adjusting himself at first, but it lasted for way too long and the repetitive nature of the motion made me realize it was deliberate.

"George, what the fuck are you doing?" I whispered, glaring at him.

"Nothing," he answered, in the same tone a 4-year-old would lie about not eating ice cream while he was eating some in front of you.

I rolled my eyes. "Just stop, whatever it is. In case you haven't noticed, we're in public."

"Is that a problem?"

I was getting uncomfortable at this point. "Yes, it is a problem. Now please get off my lap."

"Alright, alright, fine." He rolled off and I scooted away from him. His tone sounded irritated, which made me more upset. 

I sighed. "George, we really need to have a talk when you're sober."

"Mmmmhmmmm."

I rolled my eyes. He wasn't listening at all and I'm the one suffering for it. I wasn't planning to be drastic or anything, but we definitely needed to talk about it when he had a clear mind. For now, I just watched the movie a comfortable distance away from George, trying to get my mind off of it all. 

I must have gotten too invested because the next thing I knew, George was missing from his spot a few feet beside me. Panicking, I looked around, and of course, I saw him at the bar with Nick, getting another drink. Emily gave me a bewildered look, also seeming to have just noticed our boyfriends leaving. We both stormed over to them, furious. I noticed the bartender wasn't Kris anymore, but at this point, I didn't care.

"George, you can't have any more! You're way too drunk for your own good."

"Nope," George declared, taking a long swig from his cup. Nick was nothing short of gulping his down.

"Should we take them home..?" Emily asked hesitantly.

"Noo, I don't wanna go home!" Nick whined.

"Let's just get you guys back to the movie for now," I responded, softly grabbing George's wrist to guide him back to the movie. He didn't protest any more after that, though I winced when another empty cup fell onto the ground and rolled around, bringing George's total drinks to 3 tonight.

After the movie was over, people got up to go to the bathroom and get more drinks. The music resumed, as did the party. I stayed closeby to George, making sure he didn't wander off, while Emily did the same for Nick. I could tell that we shared the same sentiment about our significant others. I made a note to myself to never adopt a kid because I would not be able to deal with this behavior every day for years. 

Snapping me out of my thoughts, there were a few splashes and heads turned to the pool. Apparently, people had decided to go for a swim, and George's face lit up.

"Can we go swimming!?" he asked, wide-eyed.

I sighed. "We don't have any bathing suits."

"I can just strip down to my underwear-"

"Not letting that happen." I checked the time on a nearby clock - it was already 11 PM. The movie had knocked off a lot of time.

"Actually, that reminds me. Guess what I brought?"

"Huh?" I asked. I didn't have any idea what he could be talking about until I saw him pull two items out of his pocket.

He was holding a condom and a small bottle of lube.

"I was thinking we could go snag one of Dave's rooms and-"

"Wait... Is that why you were, like, grinding on me earlier?" 

"Yep!" he chirped. His tone was way too carefree for the seriousness of the situation. I didn't even consider it for a second - he was way too out of it for whatever he says to be considered consent. The thought of agreeing made me so sick that I almost felt like throwing up.

"George, you're too fucking drunk. Okay? We're not doing this right now. Period," I whisper-shouted through gritted teeth. 

"C'moonnn, you can top," he said, almost too loudly. "I had some fun before the party, so you don't have to worry about prep."

My brain froze when he said that. He fucking planned this. He planned to make moves on me at this party. This wasn't a side effect of him being drunk - he was trying to surprise me with it even when he was sober.

"What the fuck, George!? You can't just spring this on me!" I would have caused a scene with all of my shouting if the music weren't as loud as it was. After a moment of thinking, I decided, "C'mon, we're going home."

"What- No!" he pleaded, grabbing my arm. I broke out of his relatively weak grasp and held his other arm tightly. I was being a little too forceful, but by now, I didn't care. George was trying to surprise me with something like this, expecting me to take his consent as valid even when he was this drunk. I should have never agreed the first time.

"Emily, we're going home. Personal reasons."

"Yeah, I was thinking about doing that too," she sighed, looking at an equally loopy Nick. "They seem way too out of it, though... doesn't that seem suspicious?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when we saw Bad, he wasn't all that loopy. Sure, he was drawing out his words and all, but he was staying focused enough to be as wholesome as usual."

"I think that's just because it's second nature to him at this point, though."

"Even then, look at everyone around you. I'm sure they've all had more than 3 drinks at this point, and yet none of them seem as out of it as George and Nick."

I looked around. She was right - no one was acting nearly as badly as George and Nick. "That's... odd. But yeah, you're right."

"Let's ask Kris about this. I hope she didn't give them any hard liquor."

We left George and Nick standing in the middle of Dave's basement while we went to check out the bar, but to our surprise, nobody was there. 

"What the fuck? I'm gonna have to have a talk with Kris. Why the fuck did she just leave?"

"Actually, I remembered seeing someone who wasn't Kris there earlier. Did she get a substitute?"

"Pretty crappy substitute if they just up and left on everyone."

"We'll have to figure it out tomorrow. Let's get home."

"Yeah. I'll go tell the other guys 'cause you really need to keep an eye on George. I... uh... might have heard you guys' conversation earlier."

"Oh." I was a little embarrassed that she had to hear that, but at the moment, taking George home was my only priority. "Sorry about that."

"No, I agree with you. Regardless of what made him this drunk, he's way too loopy for his consent to be valid."

"That's what I was thinking. Anyway, I'm getting nervous now. Let's go take them home."

"See you on Tuesday."

"See you."

I walked over to George and led him away with his hand in mine, being a bit gentler than I was before. He was still pouting about me taking him away, saying things to just make me upset.

"I made out with Nick!" he said excitedly.

"Yeah, whatever." I was almost certain he didn't because, among the other shit he was saying, it was probably only to make me upset.

We finally got to my car and I had to put George's seatbelt on for him in the backseat. He was whining like a toddler as I drove into the night. Right now, I had no intention of sleeping with George, so while I was sitting at a stoplight, I decided I'd take him to his house since I had the time.

When I pulled into his neighborhood at around 11:30, I got out of the car to carry George to his house, since he had passed out during the car ride. I was honestly glad that I learned how to do the fireman's carry at that camp a few years ago because I wasn't feeling very romantic towards him at the moment and refused to the bridal carry. I didn't know where he had his house keys on him right now, but I saw that the downstairs light was on, so I just knocked.

After a beat, George's mom opened the door with a look of deep concern on her face.

"What happened to him?" she asked. "Lay him on the couch right now."

I obliged, dropping him on the couch a little rougher than I probably should have. Ignoring that, she immediately started analyzing him, checking his temperature and pulse. Sighing, she went to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a warm compress, placing it in the microwave.

"How many drinks did he have?" she asked, exasperated.

"I dunno. He should have only had three, and I was with him the whole time, so he can't have gotten more."

"What sort of drinks?" She pulled the heated compress out of the microwave and laid it on George's forehead.

"I thought it was just beer, but he got really loopy after his third one, so I'm worried it might have been something stronger."

"It has to be. Even though he has a small build and didn't have any alcohol tolerance, 3 beers wouldn't make him pass out in a 2 and a half hour period."

"That's what I was thinking, but he only passed out on the car ride here."

"Oh. Why'd you take him home early, then? I'm not saying it's a bad thing, but I'm just curious."

"About that... I really need to have a serious talk with him when he's sober. It's... important. Could you remind him tomorrow?"

"Alright then. I won't pry at all, but please let me know if you need any help."

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Do you want to sleep here for the night? He's sleeping on the couch for tonight and probably the next few nights until I think of a better punishment."

"Why don't you just ground him?"

"That would be punishing you too, wouldn't it? I can tell you didn't drink any, and if I grounded him, he wouldn't be able to talk to you outside of school."

"I- Well... I guess it'd be nice if I could talk to him."

She could tell something was off. "Did something happen?"

"Uh... nothing too bad, but... I'm just not very happy with him right now."

"Is it because of how drunk he was?"

"Yeah, pretty much. But..."

"But what?"

"Sorry, you don't need to know that. It's... kinda weird."

"Alright then. Anyway, do you want to stay the night or no?"

"No, thanks."

"Alright. Drive safe."

"Thank you."

The drive home was draining. I had been running on fumes for the past hour or so, but now I was exhausted. Luckily, I didn't get in a crash, and I was able to flop onto my bed, quickly tossing my costume accessories across the room and getting ready to fall asleep. I was tossing and turning, wondering how I would talk to George tomorrow. Then I remembered - tomorrow was his 18th birthday. I'd just be ruining it, wouldn't I? I'd just have to keep all of this to myself and hope George forgot about it.

Jittery, I checked my phone, noticing I had a message from an unknown number. Normally, I would just chalk it up to a telemarketer or someone who bought my number from a company to advertise to me, but I checked it regardless.

To my surprise, it was a video, clearly taken at the party. There wasn't anyone in the thumbnail that I could recognize, so I started playing it.

The camera shook for a bit along with the crackling of the microphone before it got focused on two boys making out. And to my horror, I knew both of those boys very well.

George, my boyfriend, was making out with Nick.


	11. Everything Went Wrong

_"I think I'm gonna go to sleep again," I mumbled as I bent down to pull out the mattress underneath George's bed. We had just finished making out for the third time that night, and as excited as I was, I really needed sleep._

_"What, you don't wanna sleep with me?~" he teased._

_Though I was tempted, I didn't want to do anything that would make him feel uncomfortable. Plus, our first kiss was only a little under an hour ago - this might be too soon._

_"Maybe in the future, but I'm not sure if I want to right now."_

_"That's fair." He started preparing himself for bed, stripping into his underwear and scooting into his sheets. I did the same with my mattress, getting cozy even with my feet poking out from under the covers. He flicked off the light and I suddenly felt lonely._

_He reached a hand out towards me, hoping I would grab it. I did and made a noise of content as I gently rubbed his knuckles._

_"One more thing before we sleep."_

_"What's that?" he asked._

_"Can I call you my boyfriend?"_

_He giggled. "Of course. I mean, we kissed 3 times already."_

_I looked away for a moment, embarrassed. "Yeah, but I don't want to do something that you're not comfortable with. I didn't know whether or not you wanted to be official."_

_"Of course I want to be official, Clay. Do you?"_

_"I do. That's why I'm asking."_

_"That's settled, then."_

_There was a beat of silence between us as the moonlight shone in through the blinds. George adjusted his head to get a better look at me, his brown eyes sparkling beautifully._

_"Clay, um... I promise, if you're ever uncomfortable with something I do, please tell me. I don't want to make you upset."_

_"Yeah. Same goes for you, George."_

_"Thank you. I love you so much, Clay."_

_"I love you too, George."_

Well, that was a fucking lie.

This morning was miserable. Part of it was me not getting any sleep because I kept tossing and turning after what happened last night, which eventually devolved into quiet sobs. Another factor was the fact that it was overcast and rainy outside, seeming to reflect my mood. Then again, I didn't want to leave my room, let alone my house. I also didn't want to touch my phone because I was scared. Scared that I'd see a message from Nick saying he was sorry, or a message from Emily looking to vent together, or, worst of all, George wanting to take me up on the serious talk offer. 

Boredom finally won over, though, so I reluctantly picked up my phone and opened Messages. I just went down the line of recent messages, piecing more and more of what happened as I went along. Everyone seemed to know exactly what happened on the video, leading me to believe that whoever sent me the video had shared it with everyone else. Tons of messages from Bad, Zak, Alex, and even Dave flooded my phone. Dave was apologizing profusely, presumably for providing the alcohol, while the other three were offering to talk if I needed it. I didn't respond to any of them, only thinking about George and Nick, neither of whom messaged me. Nick... he'd have rumors start about him that would never go away. Being actually gay and having to deal with homophobes is bad enough - I can only imagine how much worse it would be if you were straight like he was.

I decided to find whoever sent the video so I could beat the shit out of them... or maybe not. The last thing I need is to get expelled. Regardless, I still decided to find the culprit because I still needed to blame _someone_. I knew it couldn't have been shared through a Discord server because I would have seen it by now, so that left the only other likely media to check to be Snapchat. I opened the most active class group chat and sure enough, there was a ton of reactions to the video. I kept scrolling higher and higher, hoping to find someone - and I did. In green text read a name I remembered too well.

It was Jack.

I was about to rescind my promise to not get physical until I stopped myself and thought about it for a second. Jack didn't necessarily do anything wrong. As much as I hated his homophobic ass, George and Nick were in public, so they could have been seen and recorded by anyone, and it's not like he forced them to make out. They just got so drunk they did it on their own. That means I'd be in the wrong if I were to be angry at him just for this. 

For fuck's sake, why did I have to make an excuse for him? I hate him. I could just go over and beat the shit out of him, but that'd leave me in a worse situation.

"Fuck," I mumbled to myself, tossing my pillow across my room. I just wanted to blame anyone but George or Nick. Wasn't there something Emily said that could take the blame off of them? Something like them being more out of it than everyone else with fewer drinks? Or maybe she was just trying to shift the blame to someone besides our boyfriends for their behavior like I am?

I dropped my phone as if it were a live grenade before furiously punching the remaining pillow I had on my bed. I eventually ran out of energy and collapsed against the headboard, tears streaming down my cheeks. My phone buzzed on the bed, making me roll over and check. I nearly started sobbing when I saw "George", but reading it again, the contact actually read "George's Mom." I opened the conversation, wiping away my tears.

 **George's Mom:** Good morning.  
 **George's Mom:** I don't want to force you to do anything, so please do not read this if you're not ready. I understand something happened, and though I don't know what, I know you might not be in the best place right now.  
 **George's Mom:** However, if you are okay, may I ask what happened?  
 **George's Mom:** George refuses to tell me anything after I took his phone and computer, but I can tell that's not the only reason why.  
 **Clay:** A few things did happen, yeah  
 **Clay:** You probably dont want to know tho  
 **George's Mom:** That's fine.  
 **George's Mom:** By the way, do you still want to come over and talk to him?  
 **George's Mom:** You mentioned that you wanted to last night, and his hangover is letting up a little bit thanks to everything I had him take.  
 **George's Mom:** He might want to see you.

My heart turned in my chest. She was right - as upset I was at him, he was probably still wanting to see me. He must have seen the video by now too and probably wanted to apologize. So I needed to talk to him because if we really do break up, I don't want to ghost him.

 **Clay:** Okay  
 **Clay:** Ill be there soon

I turned off my phone before flopping back on my bed, arms splayed out. After a moment of self-loathing, I rolled out of my lonely mattress and put on a t-shirt and gym shorts. Floridian Novembers barely dropped below 75 degrees, so I wasn't going to be cold anytime soon.

Strangely, neither my sister nor my father was downstairs. It's not like I was in the mood to talk to them, though. I forced myself to have some breakfast before getting into my car and taking a deep breath, focusing on the road as best as I could. The closer I got to George's house, the tighter my chest felt. By the time I pulled into my neighborhood, I felt like I was about to faint. 

After taking a few moments to compose myself, I rang the doorbell and George's mom quickly answered, looking happy to see me.

"Hey. How are you doing?"

I shrugged, not giving a definite answer.

She nodded towards the stairway with an understanding look. "He's in his room. I'll try not to interrupt."

Every part of me was saying not to do it, that this was an awful idea, but I forced myself onward and up the stairs. I carefully approached George's room and opened the door.

When I entered the room, he was sitting on his bed looking at me with a glare. "Mom, I told you I don't want to-" But then his face softened a little bit when he saw me and he mumbled, "Oh. Hi, Clay."

"Hey."

We stared at each other for a tense moment before he spoke up again, breaking eye contact to look at the floor.

"Listen, I saw the video... I'm really sorry. I was drunk, and I was being an idiot, and... just... yeah. I'm so, so sorry."

I was silent for a moment. He sounded so genuine, and yet, it felt like he wasn't giving me everything. How do I forgive him for doing something like that? No matter how genuine he sounded, I would just be gullible if we just pretended like this never happened. I know he wanted to apologize for everything, but I needed to hear it to believe it.

"Isn't there something else you should be apologizing for?"

He nodded. "Yeah. My mom found the stuff in my pocket, and... well, she's not very happy. Clay, I'm so fucking sorry for putting you through that. I promised I'd always stop if you were uncomfortable, but I guess I wasn't too faithful to that, huh?"

"Yeah, you really weren't."

I sat down on the bed next to him to make talking less awkward. He tried to put his hand on mine, but I yanked it away. He seemed to realize what that meant but didn't want to admit it.

"Clay, um... Do you forgive me?"

I shook my head. "George, look, I... this isn't like a movie. You can't just go around doing stuff like that and expect me to forgive you immediately."

"Then what are we?"

"I don't know, okay!?" I shouted, my temper rising. I didn't know what to do, and it made me so frustrated that I couldn't stop myself. "I don't want to be separated, but if you think that I'm just gonna move on from this so easily-"

"Okay, geez, I'm sorry."

"How sincere of you," I sneered.

"What else do you want? A consolation gift?"

"No, I want you to act like you're actually fucking sorry!"

My shouting seemed to have set George off, too. "Oh, come on now! Don't start that shit with me! I've been completely fucking grounded and can't use my phone or computer for weeks! And all of this on my fucking 18th birthday!"

"Yeah, well, you deserve it!"

"Well, maybe you deserved that letter from your mom!"


	12. The Right Choice

That sentence hit me harder than any punch. I stumbled backward, my eyes wide with shock and pain. I was out of breath and tears were streaming down my face. Time had stopped; my head was spinning and it was as if and the world punched a hole through my stomach.

George immediately knew he had gone too far and had put his hand up to his mouth, stuttering, "W-Wait, Clay, I-I'm sorry-"

I sprinted out of his room and down the stairs. George was calling after me, but I didn't care. The sprint towards the stairs felt like an eternity, and I heard George collapse onto his bed behind me. I was stopped by George's mom - or, more accurately, I ran headfirst into her. If I hadn't just finished coming down the stairs and lost all my momentum, I would have knocked her clean over. I wasn't paying attention to anything by now - just breaking down and sobbing.

Next thing I knew, she had led me over to the couch and helped me sit down. From this new position, I was crying into her arms as she held me close. Something about this feeling was new to me and I couldn't quite put my finger on it for a few moments. Finally, though, I realized. This was motherly affection, something I've never experienced before. The weirdest part was that I'm not related to her at all, and yet she was caring for me as if I were her own child. It felt strange yet so incredibly comforting.

"Why..?" I muttered aloud. "Why do you care so much about me?"

She thought for a moment. "Well... This might seem a little like a nonanswer, but... I do it because I can. I do it because I can help you and care for you like the mother you never had."

I choked out another sob. She kept patting my back softly as I slowly, but surely, returned to my senses. The tears were still coming down fast and hard, but at least I was becoming fully aware of where I was and what I was seeing.

After what must have been a few minutes of comforting me, George's Mom said, "I'm going to go check on George. I promise I'll be back soon. Okay?"

"O-Okay," I sniffed.

She laid me down on the couch gently and quickly made her way up the stairs to comfort her actual son. I sat up and wiped fresh tears from my eyes as they came down harder. Of course, it makes sense that she'd want to talk to her biological child more than me. That doesn't make her a bad person, and I don't blame her for it.

I noticed a small gray figure from the corner of the room that was approaching me curiously. Wiping a few more tears out of my eyes, I saw that it was George's cat. We looked at each other silently before he hopped up onto the couch and stepped onto my lap, purring softly. I rested my hands on his soft back, stroking it and smiling internally. Both he and Patches had a tendency to cuddle up with me when I was feeling distressed, and to be honest, having a fluffy friend really helped sometimes.

As he got more settled, I felt the tears stop coming down as fast. I was nowhere near composed, but at least I wasn't ugly crying like earlier. I even broke a little smile when George's cat brushed his tail against my arm. I was able to stare at his light gray fur and just forget.

I had to come back to the harsh reality when George's mom returned downstairs and walked over to me, softly taking a seat next to me. The cat on my lap didn't seem to care.

"Hey, Clay. Do you want to talk?"

"I-I..." Staying composed was so much easier when I could be silent, but when I had to speak again, I just couldn't stop myself from crying.

"We don't have to if you're not feeling ready," she assured me.

"No, I want to," I sniffed. "It's just... kinda hard to stay composed."

"I understand." She averted eye contact for a moment to softly pet the cat on my lap, smiling lightly. "Do you want to start, or would it be easier if I did?"

"U-Um... can you s-start?"

"Of course." She looked back down at the cat thoughtfully, seemingly coming up with the right thing to say.

I felt like I put her on the spot, so I corrected, "S-Sorry, you don't need to, I can start-"

"You're not being an inconvenience, Clay. You don't need to worry about apologizing right now."

"O-Oh. Thanks."

"No need to thank me. It's just a fact. Anyway, I think I have a good starter. He told me what happened last night and all, but... I was wondering how you felt about that."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Obviously, I'm angry that he'd do that. Any of it."

She shrugged. "I meant more along the lines of how you feel towards him."

"I hate him! He betrayed me and did all of that shit and I fucking hate him for it. But..."

She looked at me expectantly, as if she knew what I was going to say next.

"But I don't know! I love him, I think? But at the same time, I hate him, I don't want to be anywhere near him-"

"It's okay to still love him. That'll happen a lot in a relationship. You may love someone to death, but at some points, you may want to strangle them."

"No, you don't understand. It's more than what happened last night. If it were, we would have gotten over it by now. Just now, we... We got in a fight. And he said something that..."

"I know what he said. He told me." She took a deep breath, sounding disappointed. "I'm not going to apologize for him, but when he gets angry at someone, he... well, he tends to go for the most hurtful thing to say. Even if that's you. I'm not excusing him for what he did, especially since that behavior is awful, but it may help you understand why he did what he did."

"It was such a low blow and it hurt so bad and I just... I want this to have never happened at all."

"Clay..." She placed her hands on mine comfortingly. "No matter how badly you want it to change what happened, you can't. George did what he did, said what he said, and now we're here."

"Y-Yeah."

"So what do you want to do with what the world is now?"

"I-I... I want to start over with George. B-But... What if he doesn't love me anymore? I was the one who started shouting..."

"You didn't do anything wrong. You need to stop thinking that you did." Her tone was commanding yet still soft, and it made me feel... better, I guess. "Trust me, he loves you, Clay. And if you don't believe that, I'll go get him right now and you two can have a talk."

So I _could_ see George again. Part of me wished I would never see his face again, but another part of me really wanted to. After all that he said, it didn't seem like he loved me... but I guess I have to give him a chance for any sort of progress to be made between us. 

"C-Could you?"

"Of course. I'll be right back."

She disappeared up the stairs again, quickly coming back with George. We were avoiding eye contact, but George's mom made him sit down across from me, making it hard to maintain it for long.

"Clay, I'm so sorry. I should have never said that. And on top of everything I did last night..." A tear streaked down his face. "You didn't do anything to deserve that."

"George, if I'm being honest... I still love you. I don't forgive you, but... I'm just conflicted, you know?"

"You don't need to forgive me. I'm sorry that I started yelling at you."

"I yelled first."

"Clay, none of this is your fault, okay? I'm the one who made you uncomfortable last night. I'm the one who got super drunk and hurt you. I'm the one who said what I just said."

I was stunned for a moment. He took responsibility so readily, and hearing him do that felt like a majority of the weight was lifted off my shoulders. George, too, looked relieved, taking some deep breaths but not crying anymore otherwise. However, another wave of fury crashed over me before I said my next words.

"Yeah, you did. Because you're an unfaithful little-"

"Clay."

Both mine and George's heads snapped to his mom, who was giving me a dangerous look. "You need to give George to truly explain himself or else nothing's going to change. If you really don't want to reconcile at all, you can leave, but I implore you to please stay."

"I..."

My eyes trailed from the woman on the seat next to me towards my... what even are we? George looked a little embarrassed that his mom cut me off, but seemed to regain confidence when said mom gave him a little nod.

"I'm so sorry, okay? I don't know what I can do to make up for that, but I'll do anything I can. Just... please don't let this be the end."

"George..."

"Clay, um... do you still love me?"

"I... I don't know," I sighed, shaking my head. My heart felt like it was about to split in two. "I love you, but at the same time, I don't... I guess I'm just an idiot, huh?"

More tears started flowing from his eyes, but he wasn't fully crying. "You're not an idiot. You shouldn't forgive me for that if you don't think you're ready to."

I gazed into his teary eyes. They were as beautiful as always, but it felt like I couldn't fully appreciate how beautiful he was after everything that happened.

"It's weird how we're having such a meaningful conversation, huh?" I commented after a moment. "It reminds me of that day a little after we first started dating."

He smiled lightly. "When we were at the mall with Nick? Yeah, I'm kind of reminded of then too."

"You promised me nothing would make you stop loving me."

"And I stick by that."

My mood fell immediately. "But you still said and did all of that shit, so it sure as hell doesn't seem like you do."

He could tell my temper was rising again and picked his next words very carefully, taking a few moments before speaking again. But I didn't let him.

"And don't even start apologizing because I know you're not sorry. Otherwise, you wouldn't have said everything you did up there because clearly-"

"Clay," George's mom warned. "Let him talk. This will be a lot less painful for you both."

She nodded at George, who sighed sadly. "I said what I said and I need to take responsibility for that. I was just an idiot. It's no one else's fault that I did any of that but mine. I can't change what I did, so all I can do is apologize."

I suddenly felt like I was making him apologize when he didn't want to. "You don't need to, you apologized already-"

"I'll apologize as much as you want me to, Clay."

We stared at each other for a moment, not knowing what else we should say. We seemed to be looking at everything but each other - the cat, the TV, the wall, the carpet - anything. Finally, George spoke up.

"So... what are we?"

"I... I really don't know."

There was another long beat of silence as we stared at each other, neither of us knowing what we should do about our relationship. 

Thinking about it too hard was making my head hurt, so I was glad when George's mom popped in with, "Do you guys want a suggestion?"

George caught my eye and shrugged. 

I shrugged too, nodding, "Uh... A suggestion would be great."

"Well, you guys still love each other?"

"Yeah, but... I don't really like him right now."

She nodded in understanding. "That's exactly why I was going to suggest taking a break for a week or two. George can reflect on what he did and Clay can decide what he wants to do."

George and I finally made constant eye contact as we considered his mom's idea.

"So... like... we don't do couple stuff?" he asked, looking a little scared.

"Yes."

"That's a good idea," I said. I honestly couldn't think of a better fitting idea for myself, anyway - I didn't want to completely break up with George, but I didn't want to date him like we did before, either.

George, however, looked more conflicted. After a few moments of deep contemplation, he sighed, "Yeah, that's for the best."

"Alright. Clay, do you want me to drive you home?"

"What? Oh, uh... I'm good." It felt kind of sudden for me to leave

"Okay. Drive safe."

I got up, gently placing George's cat on the ground. As I turned around to leave, though, George stuttered, "Wait, Clay?"

I tilted my head back to face him, looking at him curiously.

"Just... wanted to say bye," he mumbled.

I smiled weakly. I could at least humor him a farewell. 

"Bye, George."


	13. Conflicted

I woke up Monday morning cuddling my pillow closely. I briefly thought I had to get ready for school, but then I remembered that they made today a professional day for the teachers, so I quickly relaxed back into my old position. 

At first, I was only sad that the pillow wasn't actually George, but the second I thought about him, the weekend's events hit me like a truck. My emotions quickly overwhelmed me, and I shed a few silent tears into my pillow, gripping it tightly as the painful memories washed over again.

After a few moments, I finally took a deep breath and sat up in my bed, instinctively grabbing my phone. There weren't any new text messages, but most of the ones from yesterday were still unanswered. Emily had texted some time after everyone else, but I refused to even open her messages.

Despite all of them being unanswered, I didn't respond. I just clicked off my phone and lay on my bed, trying to push all of the thoughts out of my head, but they didn't go. I was tormented with thoughts of George and Nick - the things George said, the image of what they did, it all just _hurt._

I eventually decided to at least let them know I was at least holding up, snatching up my phone again. Just as I was about to respond to Bad, though, there was a knock on my door.

"Clay?" my dad called softly.

"What?" Unlike him, my voice was harsh. He had been bothering me all day yesterday about why I wasn't talking and I quickly got sick of it.

"Can you come down?"

I scoffed. "I told you I didn't want to talk about it."

"I know you don't want to talk. I... um... I made you breakfast. You need to eat something because you didn't have anything yesterday."

"Oh." I felt bad at snapping at him now, and as if on cue, my stomach rumbled. Ever since returning to my house yesterday, I was cooped up in my room and missed lunch and dinner because of it. "Okay, I'll be down in a bit."

"Alright."

I was still wearing the clothes I was wearing yesterday, which I definitely needed to change because the sleeves were covered in dried tears and snot. I would normally never wipe my nose on my sleeve, but I ran out of tissues and had to resort to that. Regardless, I needed to change, so I peeled everything off and tossed on some new clothes. 

Getting some new clothes on made me feel a little bit better like I was shedding a little bit of yesterday's pain. My rising mood was immediately crushed, though, when I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror out of habit.

I still had a dark brown spot on my neck.

I clawed at my collar and sure enough, the other one was still there as well. Why did I have to be such an idiot? If we hadn't done... _that_ , George would have probably not brought the lube and condoms to the party. Then I wouldn't be nearly as upset with him for being a drunk idiot and we probably wouldn't have had that argument yesterday. Maybe I could have been at his house, doing some homework together before collapsing onto his bed and snuggling for an hour or two like we did on days off. The hickeys were a constant reminder of him, of what he did, of what he took.

I quickly made my way to breakfast to get my mind off of George, grabbing a hoodie to cover the shameful mark. I looked like a stereotypical angsty teen with my hood up, but I didn't really have another alternative besides asking my sister, which I refused to do because I knew she'd pester me about George.

My dad was sitting at the table, looking at the news on his tablet. He turned his head up at me when I came in, greeting, "Morning, Clay."

"Hi," I mumbled dryly.

He nodded at a plate across from him at the table. "I made some scrambled eggs. Hope you're okay with that."

"Yeah, thanks." I sat down and started to eat, avoiding my dad's gaze. The eggs probably tasted good, but I didn't have any appetite right now.

After a moment of awkward silence, he tried to start a conversation. "So... do you have any homework to do by tomorrow?"

"Probably," I shrugged.

"What is it?"

"I dunno."

I continued eating, ignoring my dad's disappointed expression. I was almost done with my food when he finally spoke to me directly.

"Look, I don't know what happened with George, and I'm not going to ask, but you need to stop being so moody."

I rolled my eyes defiantly, finishing off the last of my eggs and standing up to clean up the plate.

"I'm serious, you know. You need to move on."

I scowled at the plate as I put it away, out of my dad's sight. "You don't even know what happened between us and you're just telling me to move on?"

"He was only your boyfriend-"

I slammed the dishwasher door shut. "Only my boyfriend? He's the only person who ever fucking cared about m- at least, he _was_ the only person who ever cared! But he was definitely better than your sorry ass!"

"Don't you dare talk to me like that!" he commanded, looking upset.

"Then stop prying into my personal business!"

Before he could stop me, I started storming up to my room and slamming the door, collapsing onto my bed. Fresh tears welled up in my eyes again as an overwhelming feeling of hurt washed over me. I curled up with my pillow and let the tears flow.

George said he loved me, but there was still so much doubt in my heart. He hurt me so deeply it seemed to be irreparable. But there had to be the ability to get over it because somewhere I feel like I love him.

After a while, I heard my bedroom suddenly door open, and I whipped around expecting to shout at my dad, but it was just Cassie holding a seemingly content Patches. We stared at each other awkwardly until she spoke up.

"I... uh... heard dad yelling at you, so I sorta abducted Patches for you, to make you feel better," she stuttered. "Um... Here." 

She gently placed the cat on the bed before leaving my room as quickly as she came. The kitten mewled softly, unconcerned, and snuggled up to my arms, likely wanting to be pet. I obliged, gently rubbing her back and scritching the top of her head. Her brown fur was so incredibly soft and made me feel at least a little bit better. She swapped from her sitting position in favor of rolling onto her side to relax. 

She gave the back of my hand a few small licks but eventually looked like she decided just to fall asleep with me. I laid on my back, assuming she would do the thing she sometimes does and lay on my chest. As I guessed, she curled up just beneath my heart and stayed there, her tail hanging down the side of my torso with a content purr. The small weight made me feel cozy and I was able to fall asleep with ease.

I woke up an hour or so later when my dad opened the door gently, presumably to check on me. Patches had apparently finished her nap and was now pacing around my room, curiously pawing at my clothes. 

"Oh." He looked a little shocked to see me on the bed, looking at him with a disgruntled expression. "If you were sleeping, I'll let you get back to that."

I nodded. "Yeah, I was."

"Okay," he sighed. "Sorry."

He closed the door and I laid back on my bed. The seconds ticked by agonizingly slow as my eyes darted around my room to find something to do. As much as I wanted to get back to sleep, I found my thoughts sinking deeper and deeper into thinking about George and how my dad was really only just trying to help.

I moved over to my desk to do play some Minecraft and take my mind off things. I scooped Patches out of the tangle of wires she had gotten interested in and placed her to sit on my lap. She seemed content enough there, so I logged onto Minecraft and joined a server to play some UHC. It's a great way to pass the time because the rounds take such a long time, and I'm not too awful at it, either, so I tend to last until the latter parts of the rounds.

After winning a round, I took a break to have some water and stretch. It must have been the third round of the day, and while it was the only one that I won, I did pretty well in the other two. Once I was all refreshed, I sat back down just as I got a Discord notification of a DM from Bad. I opened it out of habit, seeing that there was a chain besides the first one shown in the notification.

 **BadBoyHalo** _Today at 1:34 PM_  
hey you muffin  
i just wanted to make sure you're ok  
you haven't answered anyone's texts and im getting a little bit worried  
so when i saw you playing minecraft i figured you were online here

 **dream** _Today at 1:34 PM_  
oh  
sorry  
yeah i was just kinda moping around yesterday  
same thing with today tbh

 **BadBoyHalo** _Today at 1:35 PM_  
aw :c  
do you wanna talk about it?

 **dream** _Today at 1:35 PM_  
maybe tomorrow at school but not right now

 **BadBoyHalo** _Today at 1:35 PM_  
oki  
make sure you let me know if u ever do <3  
bottling up your feelings is very very bad!!

 **dream** _Today at 1:35 PM_  
yeah  
thanks

This world doesn't deserve someone like Bad, but I'm glad he's here anyway. Even though I hadn't got anything off my chest, I felt a little better knowing he wants to reach out to me. I really should talk to him tomorrow.

I looked at my bedroom door nervously. I should probably go talk to my dad because I feel bad that I yelled at him earlier. Plus, Patches was looking a little bit bored of my room and I didn't want to keep her cooped up in here like me. I took a deep breath, stood up, and nervously walked to my door.

My house was quiet, save for the slight noise from the TV. It sounded like my dad was watching the news. I stepped slowly down the stairs and soon came into his line of sight.

"Hey, Clay."'

"Hi, Dad." I took a breath. "Um... I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier."

He shook his head. "Don't apologize. I pressed past your boundaries more than I should've."

"Oh, um..." I was a little surprised he not only owned up, but apologized in a very clear way. I guessed my sister must have talked to him about it.

"Why don't you stay down here for a while? Or maybe go for a walk or something."

"I probably should."

We stared at each other for a moment, not knowing what to say. The air had never really been completely cleared between us. I didn't hate him anymore - in all honesty, I loved him a lot - but there was still a scar that was taking its time to heal, and while it was, I couldn't be fully open with him.

He finally spoke up. "Look, I understand this may be tacky of me, considering why I'm apologizing, but do you want to talk about it?"

"I..." I was tentative to talk to him, but honestly, Bad was right. I couldn't keep it all bottled up and expect to feel better. "Would you?"

"Of course I will. I mean, I'm no therapist, but you can at least get it off your chest if it's bothering you. Come on, take a seat." He indicated the couch cushion beside him, so I cautiously sat down and got at least somewhat comfortable.

He nodded at me encouragingly. "You can start whenever."

"Uh... Basically, George did... something really bad. And I don't know how I feel towards him anymore because-"

"Slow down there. What did he do, exactly?"

"Well, there was this... thing..." I couldn't tell him about the party for obvious reasons, so I came up with something on the spot. "He kinda overstepped a boundary, and then I tried to get him to go to his house because of that, but then he kissed Nick, and then we got in a fight, and..."

I couldn't bring myself to tell him what George said, partially because I knew he'd probably murder George for it but mostly because it still hurt like a fresh cut, and thinking about it too hard would only make it worse.

He took a moment to think about his answer before speaking up. "Well, Clay, I say you shouldn't think too hard about it. There's always gonna be someone else for you out there, even if George isn't the one."

"That's just the problem, though," I sniffed. I had avoided crying until now, but I couldn't keep it in. "I still love him. With all my heart, I still love that fucking idiot."

He looked a little stumped for a moment, watching Patches drink from her water bowl while coming up with a response. "Have you talked to him about this any?"

"Yeah, yesterday."

"What did you say?"

"We decided to just take some time apart so I can work it out."

"That's pretty mature of you two."

"Well, his mom came up with it."

"I see. She is pretty good at that kind of stuff." He chuckled a little bit as Patches trotted up to his feet, meowing quietly. "Well, teenage love is not in my level of expertise, so I can't give you any better advice than she did."

"It's fine. Thanks for listening."

"Of course, Clay."

The next day, I had pretty much no motivation to go to school. Sure, I was nowhere near as upset as I was on Sunday or Monday, but at least I didn't have to see George while I coped. On top of that, I have to hear the whispers of people theorizing what happened to our relationship.

I forced myself through my morning routine, capping it off with a flavorless breakfast. I was driving my sister today, but she had the decency to be quiet the whole ride. That was in contrast to pretty much everyone else at school, though.

As soon as I entered the building, I heard a buzz of whispers around me. Some were looking at me while others just stood in small groups about gossip. It was so cliché that I would have laughed if I didn't feel so awful.

"I heard they broke up."

"George is such a whore. I feel bad for Clay."

"Damn, didn't know Nick swung that way. Poor Emily."

"Look at Clay... must suck for him."

"Did they break up too?"

"I'm so glad Emily dumped his ass. He was so annoying."

All of that was just on my way to homeroom. I kept my head down and my hood up. Even then, though, I knew people were looking at me. I quietly took my seat in homeroom, looking around for George and Nick. George had his head on his desk and overall looked miserable, but Nick was nowhere to be found. I almost felt bad for him if it weren't for the fact that he made out with George.

I don't even care about the whole making-out thing anymore. They were both drunk idiots and didn't mean anything by it. In all honesty, it feels like I had already forgiven both George and Nick for that because what's tormenting me now is what George said. Those words kept nagging in the back of my mind and kept slicing into me. I tried to spend as much time as I could quietly doing my work and listening to the lectures to keep my mind off of it, but that became difficult when I sat next to George in second period. 

There was an immense tension between us that both of us knew we couldn't bring up. His face was a little red and I saw a few tears fall down his cheeks. He would always quickly wipe them on his sleeve, but they didn't stop by the end of class. It hurt me a little - not out of guilt, but just sheer empathy. Then I remembered that I didn't owe him anything and he probably deserved it.

Nick came in about the middle of the period, looking like a mess. His eyes were puffy and his clothes were all askew. Even the traces of his beard looked messy despite only being small hairs. With this and the whispers earlier, I could put together only one result - Emily must have dumped him. She had every right to, but coming from Nick's best friend, it seems really petty. Then again, is he even my best friend anymore? He made a huge effort to not make eye contact with either me or George and after what he did, it's probably the best thing he could do. Even if I had forgiven him, could we ever be friends again?

The school day dragged on. None of it was pleasant, but fourth period was outright the worst because, to my great dismay, Mrs. O'Perra was back with a vengeance. Everyone was surprised to see her; after all, most people had accepted the rumor that she had been fired for not only being a homophobe but also being a godawful teacher. Now that she was somehow back, though, she seemed to be bent on tormenting George and me as much as possible even more than before. It didn't take her long to realize that something must have happened between us and she started trying to get us to work together as much as possible.

"Clay, why don't you help George with that chemical equation?"

I was about to slam my head on the desk before Bad swiftly interjected with, "I'll help him." 

He scooted over to George's desk to help him. Mrs. O'Perra had a sour expression on her face, but she knew she couldn't do anything besides let him stay there. Bad quietly "helped" George on his work, gently patting his back every so often. It was pretty clear he was actually just being a therapist like usual, but Mrs. O'Perra couldn't see that. 

That reminded me that I told Bad I'd talk to him at school today. It can't go wrong, especially seeing how quickly George started feeling better. He was smiling a little bit and the tears were nowhere to be seen.

Mrs. O'Perra was looking for another way to harass any of the three of us and quickly found one in my hoodie.

"Clay, take off your hood. You're inside," she snapped.

"Nope."

"It's against dress code."

"No, it's not," I sighed. I knew this because there were at least 5 other kids with their hoods up.

She raised her eyebrows annoyingly. "I'm going to have to check that."

"You do that."

I was saved by the bell, marking it was time to go to math class. On our way out, I noticed George looked like he was feeling significantly better, practically bouncing out of the glass with almost his usual energy. That's what always made him attractive to me, after all.

I paused for a moment after thinking that. My heart stopped for a moment when I realized what I just thought. For someone I'm supposed to hate, I was quick to give out a compliment like that. Maybe it's just because I'm a dumbass, though.

Math was boring and offered a little bit of rest from the constant stress of my love crisis because I could focus most of my brainpower on doing the problems instead of him. Something felt a little familiar about these math problems, though. Then I realized. 

I was working on the same type of problems that I was when George and I were having so much fun. It seemed like so long ago that we parted ways for the time being, and yet, just last week, we were having a cute moment of singing to each other. We didn't get that homework done in time, but having our little gay moment was amazing nonetheless.

I found myself cracking a small smile reminiscing on those good times. It was the first time I had smiled in a while and it felt a little refreshing. It felt easier to cope with my feelings toward George when I remembered the overwhelming amount of positive memories with him. I couldn't quite pinpoint my feelings yet, but I was definitely feeling at least a little better. 

Surprisingly, I kept my slight smile until the end of math class and on the way to lunch. This didn't go unnoticed by my friends.

"You feeling better, Clay?" Bad asked, catching up to me in the hall.

"A little, thanks."

"Do you still want to talk about it?"

"Yeah, but... when?"

"We could take a table on our own," he suggested. "There's always at least, like, 3 empty tables."

"Alright."

"Yay! I'll let Zak and Alex know."

He doubled back to go talk to those two while I continued on my way to the lunchroom. I nagged a table near the back corner that no one ever sat in because it's right next to a trash bin. It's not like it smelled bad, either - people just didn't like it. I noticed Zak and Alex were sitting at our usual table with Nick and George, neither of whom seemed particularly keen on talking. I could tell the other two were trying their best, but ultimately failing. Emily, meanwhile, was with another group of girls, probably gossiping about me or George or Nick.

I had to stop my observations when Bad sat down next to me with his lunch and smiled at me wholesomely.

"Make sure you're going to eat and drink before anything else, okay?"

"Yeah." I took a few bites of my food in response.

He smiled again. "Good. So, where do you want to start?"

"Well, I guess... You saw the video, right?" I sighed. 

"Yeah."

"You probably don't remember anything else that night, though."

"No, sorry. I might have gotten a little tipsy," he admitted, looking ashamed of himself. "That hangover was awful."

I chuckled a little bit. "It's fine. Basically, George was, uh... horny."

"Oh, no," he said, looking worried.

"And he tried to get me to shag him in one of Dave's rooms, but he was so drunk nothing he said could even be considered consent."

His worried expression turned into one of hesitant relief. "I'm happy you realized that."

"Me too. Anyway, I tried getting him to go home because he was just way too drunk, but he was being really whiny, and I turned away for one second to talk to Emily about it, but then that's when... Well, you saw the video."

"I see."

I poked at my food with a plastic fork nervously. "But the thing is, that's not where it ends. I think I could forgive Nick for that because he was just being a drunk idiot and probably didn't mean anything by it, but I'd need to hear him apologize first. George, on the other hand..."

"That's when the other stuff happened, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Please tell me he told you what he said to me after we got into an argument. It hurts too much to say it again."

"Well, he didn't specify anything, but he gave me a few details," he assured me.

"So you know why it hurt me so badly, then?" I asked.

"Yes."

"He tried to take it back immediately, but I just... ran away. His mom got involved and... basically, we're taking some time apart now."

"He did tell me that part."

"And all of that was after... you know what, that's TMI."

"I understand."

"But anyway, my problem is... I think I still love him."

"Did you tell him that?"

"I... think? I probably did, but I was so confused and hurt and it probably didn't make any sense."

"Well, you're not obligated to tell him anything. Like his mom said, you need to take some time to work everything out."

"Yeah, but... I need help, Bad. I just want to know... how do I love someone and hate him at the same time?"

"Going off what you've told me, I think that your issue is that you don't hate George as a person, you hate what he did. You have every reason to hate what he did, especially because of your situation before and when you guys started dating."

"Huh?"

"You don't hate George. You hate that he got drunk and tried to get you to have intercourse, hate that he made out with Nick, hate that he said something so hurtful, but you don't hate _him_."

My brain took a few moments to process that. He was objectively right. I was so hurt that I couldn't see it, but now that Bad had spelled it out so expertly, I completely understood. I didn't hate George. All I hated was what he did.

"You're right," I mumbled, shocked. It felt like I just had an epiphany, even though it was technically Bad who said it. "You're exactly right. Thank you so, so much, Bad."

"Of course, Clay. Anything else you want to talk about?"

"I should probably eat. Thank you though."

"Alright. I'm glad you feel better."

And as we both finished our lunch, I smiled. For the first time in 3 days, I fully and sincerely smiled.


	14. Back on Track

The rest of my Tuesday was spent in a significantly better mood. Bad's counseling session put my feelings in order and I didn't feel stuck anymore. While I was nowhere near getting over it, at least I could start making progress. By Wednesday morning, though, I was in a much less amazing mood. I was cuddling my pillow again, but this time, there were already tears staining it when I woke up. I felt cried out by now, though, so I was able to force myself out of bed to get to school.

I skipped breakfast, instead choosing to toss all of my work in my bag and haphazardly rushing to my car. When I got to school, there were far fewer whispers than before, but the remaining ones were still as blunt as yesterday. Nick also wasn't there by first period again, which was still concerning considering what a mess he was yesterday. George kept nervously glancing at me, but I tried not to return any of them. Even if I was able to separate my love for George from my hatred toward what he did, it didn't mean I was over it. That didn't stop me from occasionally sneaking a wistful look at him when I was certain he was looking the other way and taking in his features. It's just like all those years ago when I would do the same thing, longing for something I thought I couldn't have.

_Well, at least he wasn't crying anymore._

Nick hadn't shown up by the time we were in fourth period and it had just been accepted by everyone that he was absent. As late as he sometimes was, he'd never skip school outright. Did he just get sick at a coincidental time or is he really skipping school? 

At lunch, I sat at my old usual table where the seven of us used to sit, though we were down two because Emily was essentially exiled after breaking up with Nick and Nick himself was MIA. George and I sat slightly across from each other, not so we were directly facing each other but so we weren't sitting side by side either. Instead, Bad and Zak sat between me and George, and Alex sat on my other side.

"I'm worried about Nick," Bad frowned, pulling out his phone. "I texted him earlier, but he hasn't said anything."

"I'm worried too," Alex said.

I didn't contribute to the conversation, but I did take out my phone and quickly text him a standard "are you ok" message as Bad continued.

"He's probably just sick, you guys," Zak sighed.

"I dunno..." Bad wondered. "What if he skipped school because of all the awful stuff people were saying about him?"

"His parents wouldn't let him do that," Alex reasoned. "They're pretty strict."

"I guess."

They stopped talking for a while. The conversations at our table were normally lively, but with George and I not talking and Emily and Nick not here, it was dead. I could tell Bad wanted to involve George and me, but neither of us wanted to speak for fear of accidentally saying something insensitive to the other. 

I didn't have much of a choice, though, when Bad directly asked me, "How are you, Clay?"

"Wha? Oh, I'm, y'know... getting along."

"Did you hear about the Mrs. O'Perra thing?" Zak asked.

"Huh?" I responded, genuinely confused. She was there in class just two periods ago, after all - what could have possibly happened?

He raised his eyebrows. "You didn't? Holy shit, when I tell you-"

"Language!" Bad scolded at the same time the bell rang. "And that's the bell, we need to go to class. You can tell him later, Zachary."

"Wh- That's not even my name! What, are we going to call Clay 'Clayton' now?" Zak said incredulously.

I was about to adamantly respond "fuck no" before Bad giggled, "Nope. Only you, Zachary." He laughed harder as Zak tried to snatch his glasses. 

Alex and I watched as their fight inevitably ended a few feet away from our table. Alex cracked up a little bit before admitting, "Bad's right, we should get going."

"Yeah."

I cleaned up and started making my way to my next class, but as I was almost out of the cafeteria, I noticed George was still sitting down. At first, I was just going to leave him, but I eventually decided to double back to check on him.

"George, you coming?"

"Huh? Oh, I..." He looked up from his phone and looked a little scared. It dawned on me that this was the first time I had talked to him since the incident on Sunday, which made the whole interaction awkward. Finally, he said, "I'll catch up to you."

"Okay. I'll... see you there, I guess."

I slowly made my way to class, heart heavy and thoughts empty of anything but George. I had been avoiding talking to him all week, so talking to him _that_ casually was a breakthrough. Perhaps it's the first step on the way to forgiving him.

Nick, however, was a separate issue entirely. The end of the school day came and went with no message back from him, and I was getting worried. I figured I should probably tell him I don't hold it against him, but I thought about that too late because I was in my car at the time. Clearly, my worry showed on my face, because my dad commented on it when I came back from school.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"It's Nick," I sighed. "He wasn't at school today and I'm really worried about him."

"Probably just sick," my dad said reasonably.

"I mean, that's what I would think if it were any other day. But yesterday at school was pretty bad for him because there was tons of shit being spread about him."

"Why don't you call him?"

"Oh. Well, I texted him..."

He gave me a knowing look. "You should call him."

"I'll do it later."

I ended the conversation there, as Patches had nuzzled up against my ankles looking for attention. I gave her a few pets before scooting over to her cat toys to play with her. I crouched down with a rope toy, and she pawed at the knot on the end of it. She would meow every so often as she played, but it quickly looked like she was getting a little bored. When I stopped moving it around to pretend it died, she looked happy and looked up at me for congratulations. Chuckling, I gave her a few head scratches and back rubs to her apparent delight.

I went upstairs to do my homework, which didn't take long. For once, that was a problem for me, because when my mind wasn't occupied with that, it would linger back onto George. I laid on my bed and groaned quietly, rubbing my face with my hands. Even if I could separate my feelings, I still resented what he did. I couldn't keep my mind off of him, and I hated myself for it.

Suddenly, my phone's facetime rang. I rolled over to see who it was from, and to my surprise, it was Nick. I accepted the call immediately and saw not just Nick but his mom leaning over his shoulder to look at me. Nick looked worse than yesterday, partly because he wasn't wearing a shirt but mostly because he looked pale and was sniffling every so often. He was definitely sick.

"Hi Clay!" his mom greeted energetically, in complete contrast to her son's stifling melancholy.

"Hello," I said respectfully.

"I made Nick call you because I can tell he's upset but keeps saying he's not talking to me because he's sick," she laughed. "I know he'll talk to you, though."

"I- Okay?" I felt a little intrusive, but Nick probably didn't have much of a choice and I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to talk to him.

"Thank you!" She exited the frame, leaving Nick and I staring at each other. I could tell he didn't want to talk, but since his mom would undoubtedly be listening, he had to. 

After a few seconds, he mumbled, "So, um... yeah, I'm pretty sick. Sorry I was scaring you guys." 

"That sucks. How bad was it?"

"100-degree fever and I feel like curling up into a ball and just dying."

"Fuck, that's pretty bad."

"Tell me about it."

There was a pause before I asked the question that I knew might be hard for him. "But... why didn't you respond to anyone's texts?"

"I... was scared. Clay, I'm so, so sorry. I was a drunk idiot. I should have never-"

I cut him off. I knew it was inevitable for this topic to come up eventually, but I wasn't expecting this soon. "It's alright, Nick. I know you were drunk and you didn't mean anything by it."

"But it just hurt so much seeing you and George being separated and knowing it was my fault, you know?"

"It's not your fault," I assured him. "That whole thing might have been bad, but we separated the next day when I talked to him about it and... well... we got in a fight."

"Oh. What happened?"

"He... came at me about my mom," I admitted. I was a little worried Nick would try to murder George if I gave him that detail, but it was pretty necessary to the story.

"He WHAT?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "I mean, it wasn't really, like, fully intentional, I guess? It was in the heat of the moment and he tried taking it back immediately." 

"He still came at you about your mom, though. That's pretty fucked up no matter how it was said."

"Tell me about it," I agreed. "Anyway, we're taking some time apart. It's not permanent, and I am feeling a little better. But at the end of the day, it's not your fault, Nick."

"Thanks for forgiving me, Clay. It's more than I deserve.

"If I didn't forgive you, we could never be best friends again."

"I guess."

There were a few more moments of silence as Patches wandered into my room. I picked her up and laid on the bed with her next to my face, making Nick crack a small smile.

That quickly turned into a somber frown as he sighed, "Well, uh... can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I really don't want to go back to school," he admitted. "I was so happy that I got sick today because I just... I can't go back. Nobody talks to me anymore, and anything I do hear is just like 'Nick is this' or 'George is that.' I can't deal with all of those whispers. I can't deal with everyone saying I'm a homo, or have 'the big gay' or some bullshit when I'm _not._ "

"I know how that feels, Nick," I assured him. "I was there for a while."

"How did you manage?" He sniffled. "It's barely one day and I can't even go back. How could you do it for months?"

"I don't really know," I admitted, thinking for a moment. "It was probably because I was actually, y'know, gay. Plus, if it got to be too much, George would be there for me."

"Yeah, well, Emily dumped me and I don't think any girl is gonna be interested in me any time soon, I'm not gonna have any same luck there," he sighed.

I thought for a moment. "I mean, you said you're going out of state for college, right?"

"Yeah. If everything works out, I'll be going to Texas."

"So you'll be out of the state and all. We're almost done with school, so it's not like you have to worry about those people saying that for very long."

"Yeah."

"Plus, you'll have me and Bad and Zak and Alex. All of those people."

"They probably think I'm a horrible person for ruining your relationship with George. I mean, I am, but-"

"You didn't ruin it, Nick. It was the fight afterward where everything snapped," I assured him. "Plus, though I can't speak for them, they were all really concerned when you didn't turn up today. They don't hate you, and I'm pretty sure they still want to be friends. We should probably talk to them on Discord after this, actually."

He looked up, presumably at his computer, sighing, "I don't think I can, sorry. I'm grounded for a week 'cause I got drunk at the party."

"They don't ground you for beating the shit out of that one homophobic kid two years ago but they ground you for getting drunk now? I'm not saying they shouldn't, but..."

"Well, back then, they were actually kinda happy with me. They're pretty liberal. I mean, they still didn't appreciate that I got suspended, but all they did was just give me a stern talking to. I didn't even get any extra work or anything."

"Oh. Well... will you please come to school tomorrow, then? So we can talk about it?"

"Thanks to you, I want to now, but the school has that policy on fevers and stuff so I probably have to wait another day. But I'll go Friday, I promise."

"Good. Text me if you need anything else."

"Wait, Clay, do you need to talk about anything?"

"Oh, um... you're sick, it's fine. I'll-"

"C'mon, you can tell me. It's only fair."

"Well, um..." I took a moment to construct my thoughts. I wasn't expecting to talk to Nick about this at all, but he was offering and I knew I could trust him. "I think I'm on the way to forgiving George, I guess? It's kinda hard to explain, but, like, I dunno. I feel like I know I _will_ forgive him, but I'm not ready right now, y'know? Actually, sorry, that doesn't really make much sense-"

"It makes a ton of sense, dude. I mean, there'd be no point in agreeing to take a break if you didn't know you'd be able to forgive him."

"Oh... but I'm still simping over him, and I guess I feel like I'm being weird. Bad told me that I hated what George did and not George as a person and it makes the most sense to me right now, so that's what I'm following."

"Well, Bad's right. It's fine if you still like him, but make sure you're not rushing yourself to get over what he did just to be with him again."

"Yeah. Thanks, Nick."

"Thank you, Clay," he laughed.

"Well, I guess I'll see you, Nick. Hope you feel better."

He hung up, leaving me to stare at the home screen for a while as I contemplated what he said. At the start of the call, he looked really down, but by the time he hung up, it looked like he was feeling ten times better. I guess helping other people really does make you feel good.

Later that night, I lay in bed pondering about it. At first, I thought 2 weeks from Sunday would be too short, but now it's feeling like it might be more than enough. I smiled, content, and for the first time in a while, I fell asleep without any tears.

Thursday morning at school brought with it rain. It seemed like Nick had gotten around to talking to everyone else, since in homeroom, Bad told me, "I'm getting Nick's work ready for him at the end of the day again, so you shouldn't, alright?"

"Gotcha."

Later during class, I found myself staring at George when he wasn't glancing at me like he was yesterday. It was something I always did, both before and when we were dating. He really has nice features... 

_What a simp,_ I laughed at myself. Though I didn't need to prove anything to George - if anything, he really needed to prove that he was sincere to me - here I was, losing myself in his eyes when they were turned away from me or admiring the way his hair swooped to the side in probably the most basic hairstyle ever.

This was clearly a horrible idea because Mrs. O'Perra seemed to have used the class time I was doing that to determine how she was going to torture me today. Though she didn't do anything at the beginning of class, near the end of class when I was slipping into daydreams about George again, she said, "Clay, you got a crush or sum'n over there?"

"What?" I sputtered. "U-Uh..."

"Oh, is it ol' Georgie?" she poked evilly. "I thought you two had a... falling out of sorts."

I didn't know what to do. My stress was compounded by George was looking at me with a confused and desperate expression. My heart rate was rapidly increasing and I felt close to tears. Everyone in the class was looking at me, and I was just about to-

"Wait, Mrs. O'Perra, I have a question," Bad said innocently, making everyone's gaze snap toward him.

"Yes, Bad?" She looked at the work on his desk that we were in the middle of doing before she interrupted by being unnecessary.

"Why can't you mind your own business?"

There was a moment of silence before everyone burst into laughter and cheers at what Bad just said. It didn't get too loud, but loud enough to fluster Mrs. O'Perra. She clearly didn't know what to do after being so thoroughly murdered by the muffin man.

"W-Well, looks like we got a badass over here, don't we?" she tried to clap back, but I knew that was the worse thing she could have said because Bad quickly shut her down with his trusty word.

"Language."

Any noise in the room was instantly multiplied - especially Zak, who was quite literally clapping. Though she tried in vain to get everyone to listen to her, Bad had proved enough of a disturbance that it took everyone a solid 5 minutes to settle down. Mrs. O'Perra was fuming at Bad, but in my opinion, his disrespect was so respectful I don't even think she could do anything about it.

"Do you want a detention, Darryl?" she sneered.

"Only if you want to give me one."

"We'll have to see about that."

The bell rang, causing everyone to get up and loudly leave the classroom. Bad practically strutted out with Zak following closely behind. Most people were giving the muffin man a high-five or congratulating him. This made him a little flustered, but he was smiling widely anyway. After an uneventful 5th period, I headed to lunch, which wasn't as depressing as yesterday. I made an attempt to continue the conversation, but I held back because I was afraid to accidentally compliment George out loud.

As we were talking about what Bad did in Science, I remembered something. "Oh, that reminds me. What was that thing you were going to tell me about Mrs. O'Perra, Zak?"

"Oh, that. I'm surprised your dad didn't get emailed or something. Basically, she's only back until they can find a full-time sub who can come until they find a replacement. Otherwise, she's as good as fired."

"Ohhh. She did seem more vindictive than usual this week."

"I think my mom told me about that," George added calmly, shocking everyone. "Meant to tell you guys."

Everyone was a little stunned that he was talking, but Bad quickly adjusted and responded, "Didn't your parents leave to see your grandparents again?"

"My dad went back yesterday, but my mom said she was going to stay because she was worried about me," he shrugged. 

"I see. Well, that's good of her," Bad smiled happily. "Anyway, that's why I did that thing I did. They're probably not gonna validate any of her detentions."

"Ohhh. That's amazing, then," George said, smiling slightly.

"Yeah, really," I chuckled. "I was kinda surprised she hadn't given us a pop quiz to drop everyone's grade."

Alex laughed. "Well, like Bad said, I think the school would notice that."

Everyone, including George, laughed at that for a moment before the end of lunch bell rang. We had some small conversations as we all departed for our next classes. Thursday we had a lot of electives, meaning George and I were separated for most of the afternoon. It was probably for the better - if I spent any more time admiring George, I probably would have been an idiot and approached him sooner than I was actually ready to. I need to take my time.

When I got home, Patches immediately begged for my attention, which I was happy to give. After a few minutes of scritches, she went to her food bowl, which was near empty. I filled it for her and she quickly started eating it. Obviously, since she is so small, everything she does is absolutely adorable, and I audibly "aww"ed at her. She didn't react to the noise and simply kept eating.

I retreated upstairs to finish up any work I hadn't done in school which barely took me half an hour. I was eager to check up on Nick again, but then I remembered that he got his stuff taken away because he got drunk. Looks like I won't be able to talk to him. I instead went to Bad's DM to see what happened with his detention. He was online without the phone icon, so I could only assume he didn't get it, but it'd be fun to talk to him about it anyway.

 **dream** _Today at 3:23 PM_  
hey  
howd that detention go?

 **BadBoyHalo** _Today at 3:23 PM_  
oh, i never got it :D  
she really tried but the school turned it down  
my parents say they're proud of me :DDD

**dream** _Today at 3:23 PM  
_

lmao nice  
im proud of u too

 **BadBoyHalo** _Today at 3:23 PM  
_ aw thank you <3

 **dream** _Today at 3:23 PM_  
anyway i was thinking i was going to join the server  
if its running ofc dont turn it on for just me

 **BadBoyHalo** _Today at 3:23 PM_  
dont worry, it's running!  
i think i'll join you actually   
cuz i had that bad wither fight the other day and i lost all my netherite armor :(

 **dream** _Today at 3:23 PM_  
big oof  
well ill see you there

 **BadBoyHalo** _Today at 3:24 PM_  
see you!

I clicked off to go open Minecraft and waste away the rest of my day, for once being able to think about something other than George. Minecraft was probably the best game to do this with - you could focus on something for a long time without getting too bored. Busywork is fun in this block game.

As prepared to go to sleep later, though, my mind inevitably went back to the big topic at hand. The more I contemplated things, the weirder they seemed to get. I had refused to mull over the party because it all just reminded me of all the horrible stuff George did, even if it wasn't at the party. But the more I thought about it, the weirder it got. Why did George get so inexplicably drunk? Why was Dave's girlfriend not the bartender after a time? Was her replacement the reason George got so drunk? My brain hurt just to process all of those questions, though, so I stopped and tried to get some sleep.

Friday had a bit of a looming atmosphere. It was still cloudy though no longer rainy, and there was a slight chill in the air. I was super happy to see Nick at school - although he seemed reinvigorated when I talked to him, there was no way to tell he'd stay that way until I saw him here. However, he greeted me pretty enthusiastically, which I returned. People were giving us weird looks, probably assuming I was a cuck or something, but they didn't know what Nick told me. I'm proud to call him my best friend.

Nick's good mood bolstered both mine and George's mood as well. I was honestly feeling pretty okay, all things considered, and George seemed to have his regular mojo back every time I checked when I got lost in his features. He was even volunteering to answer questions, which was pretty uncommon in our class outside of someone like Bad. I constantly had to remind myself that just going up and saying "hey, I got over it" wouldn't be healthy because I really hadn't, but damn, did I want to.

Mrs. O'Perra was still at school, but she kept out of trouble likely because she didn't want a repeat of yesterday where Bad utterly destroyed her. She actually spent even less attention to me, meaning I was able to daydream about George to my heart's content, which was probably too much. I had to snap out of it in fifth period once the lunch bell rang because I knew George would be paying more attention, though.

Speaking of, lunch was finally talkative again. George, Nick, and I were out of the worst of our slumps, and even though George and I didn't talk directly to each other, we still participated in the conversation. It felt like I had gotten through the worst of it all.

Suddenly, I got a text. I checked it out of habit, though I didn't have any idea who it could be - maybe my dad or someone wanted to talk to me at this instant for some reason.

My eyes widened when I saw it. It was bad enough that the messages were from Jack, but the content itself...

Was so, so much worse.


	15. Final Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has several potential TWs. There is one list for the first half (until the bold line saying it's over) and one for the second half (after the bold line saying the first is over).  
> First half:  
> \- Blackmail  
> \- Illegal, non-consenual recording  
> \- Moderate descriptions of violence, injury, and blood  
> \- Homophobic slurs
> 
> Second half:  
> \- Recollection of violence (less graphic)  
> \- Mild descriptions of injury and blood  
> \- Mentions and esponsible use of painkillers

My face went pale. I tapped on the video to play it, dreading what I would see because the thumbnail was telling enough. Somehow, Jack had recorded George and me from across the street when we were having sex. The video was at least 5 minutes long, and through the open blinds, you could see George leaning into me for a kiss. Both of us were already naked and seemingly past the initial prep. Jack must have seen so much of it if he got to this point. When George started doing the inevitable, I had to pause the video. It would hurt too much to see it.

Fuck. This is the absolute worst thing that could have happened because of that, even more so than George and I breaking up. 

I didn't want to drag anyone else into this, so I suddenly stuttered, "I-I need to go to the bathroom." They all looked a little concerned, but I quickly got up and started walking before they could ask any questions. How the hell did he have that on video? How did he even know when it was going to happen?

I checked the messages again to make sure I was going to the right place. 

**Jack:** _Tap to play media_  
 **Jack:** Meet me behind the school or I leak this to everyone.  
 **Jack:** Including the teachers and principal.   
**Jack:** Go past the closest bathrooms to the cafeteria and go left until you see an outside door.  
 **Jack:** Also, if you bring anyone, I'll send it anyway.  
 **Jack:** You have 5 minutes.

I made the left and got the outside door. I'm sure there was a better way I could have gone about this, but I wasn't thinking right. It's not every day you're blackmailed with a video of you getting railed by your boyfriend with whom you are now in a strained relationship. God, why didn't we close the blinds?

I pushed open the door and looked around. Sure enough, this child who I'd love to have forgotten about was standing out of the way of the door, arms folded with a smirk on his face. How much more cartoonishly antagonistic could you get?

"See that you came," he sneered.

"Not like I had a choice. Now, what the fuck do you want?" I sighed desperately. 

"Listen, you and George aren't supposed to be having this sort of feel-good get-back together bullshit. You were supposed to be permanently separated, not taking some sort of one-week break."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm surprised. I thought a top-of-the-class faggot like you would have figured it out by now."

I was about to wind up to punch him, but I composed myself. He has some serious blackmail on me. If I were to do anything he didn't want, he'd send it to everyone in the school, including the staff. George and I would probably both be expelled, and any chance of George going to college would be in huge jeopardy. This isn't just about me - it's about him, too.

He thought for a moment. "But maybe it's better you hadn't, because now I can surprise you."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, why do you think everything started failing for you in just the past week or two?"

For a brief moment, I was confused, but then everything clicked into place. The missing bartender - it was him. He spiked George's and Nick's drinks - or, more likely, he probably just gave them something else in the bar that was much stronger because I'm sure Dave's family would have that. He saw how George and I were arguing and got George drunker to try to break us up. There's no way he could have expected him and Nick kissing, but I'm sure he was very happy to see that.

"You just realized now? I'm the one who got them drunk. I'm the one who reported you to Mrs. O'Perra last week."

"You... why the fuck would you do that, though? How much do you have to hate George and me-"

"It's you, Clay. The only one I hate is you."

"Fine, but keep George out of it."

"No. I'm tired of hearing all the time 'Clay has great grades and can keep a boyfriend, what's wrong with you?' or 'I wish Clay was our kid.' If I have to hear that, you should feel it, too. Feel so alone and helpless when you guys break up."

"Sucks for you, but it's really not my problem," I snapped. Something was off about that sentence that I couldn't quite place, but I was fuming too much to really put my finger on it.

"It's about to be your problem." He checked the time. "You can say one more thing before I'm going to get started."

I was about to cluelessly say "started with what?", but I took a moment to think. There was something I needed to know that was much more important.

"How did you know to get that video of George and me?"

He scoffed. "Wasn't expecting you to ask such a good question. Well, the answer is that you two have zero privacy in school. When you started talking about the pharmacy at school, I already had a good guess as to what you guys were getting there. But asking my sister to hit on you was what confirmed it."

"That was your sister?" I gagged. "You sick fuck."

"You're the one who had sex with a minor."

I was a little flustered at that. Even after it was all done and I confirmed it was fine, I was still insecure about that. Neither of us was taking advantage of the other, though...

"And? It was consensual. Now, what do you want?"

"I would try to make you break up with George, but that wouldn't get far. So instead..."

I was too confused to expect the first hit, so it landed square in my face. I stumbled backward slightly. I didn't have enough time to prepare my counterattack before he let out a barrage of punches, hitting my jaw, my nose, my mouth. I lost my balance and fell backward, but that wasn't enough for him. He got down on top of me and slammed his head into my face. Everything hurt. I was so utterly helpless because he wasn't letting off. I wanted to cry, but it wouldn't do anything.

"I'm so sick - of being -compared to you!" he spat, striking me at every pause. "What does some lowlifelike you have that I don't!?"

So this was his plan. He was going to mutilate me and I couldn't do anything about it. I tried kicking, punching, biting, but nothing connected. My nose was bleeding fast, my lip was bloody, and my cheeks were sore. I was already exhausted, and yet blows kept coming.

"We're both - horrible fags - so what makes you so fucking special!?"

I hardly had enough energy left to brace for the impacts. If I gave up, I could probably end up in the hospital, but I couldn't do anything else. I didn't have the energy. This was it - I couldn't do anything more.

"GET OFF OF HIM!"

I opened my eyes when the weight was knocked off of me. I heard lots of footsteps and voices.

"Clay!" Bad offered me a hand that I took with wobbly knees. He suddenly brought me in for a hug that I accepted, but I quickly broke away to see that he had quite a few people with him. I saw my friends with a few people I were less familiar with mixed in, all with a range of emotions on their face. Dave and a few other of his athlete friends were there, all of whom looked pissed. Nick looked positively murderous, Zak looked disgusted, and Alex and Bad looked worried.

After some speaking that I couldn't comprehend, Bad dashed off back into the building. My attention turned to the scuffle with Jack, wondering who my savior was. Based on who I already saw, there's only one person it could be.

George had gotten on top of Jack like Jack had done to me and was trying to strike him, but it wasn't going very well. George may be strong for his size, but he's still light and easily overpowered. After a strong headbutt, Jack managed to roll over him, kneeling on his back. I stepped quickly to stop him, but he was quick and brutal. Grabbing the smaller boy's hair, he slammed George's face about three times into the concrete.

"NO!" I cried, trying to push him off, but I lost my momentum and wasn't able to.

"Clay, let me! You'd get expelled!" Dave quickly interjected, sprinting over to Jack and grabbing him to pin him against the wall. At the same time, Dave's friend punched him in the face a few times for good measure before he also helped keep Jack still. Then there was silence for a few seconds. Everyone was still. My heartbeat rang loud in my ears as I scrambled over to George and sobbed at the state he was in, wiping the blood off my own face.

His palms, forearms, and elbows were all scraped to hell. But his face was so much worse. Like me, both his nose and lip were bleeding, but the abrasiveness of the concrete had opened several other wounds on his face. His face was covered in blood - it was like something out of a horror movie. I broke down and started sobbing over his unconscious form.

I wasn't paying attention when a few teachers burst through the door. I wasn't paying attention until they tried taking me away from George, when I mumbled, "No... No... George!"

**First list of the TWs are over, the second list applies for the rest of the chapter.**

* * *

"Hey, Clay, look at me."

I looked up and saw the most welcome face on the staff team. Mrs. Blaire was standing in front of me, resting her hand on my shoulder comfortingly. She had assumed a counselor position on top of her normal teaching job, but since she lost classes to accommodate, I didn't have her anymore.

I still couldn't speak. I stared at her blankly, blinking more tears out of my eyes.

"Your dad is on the way. Can you walk?"

"I... Yeah, I think..." I mumbled, trying to stand. I was a little wobbly, but I was able to, so I slowly followed her to the nurse's office. I sat down on one of the cushions, still shaking uncontrollably. I wanted to see George. I _needed_ to see George.

"Where's George?" I panted, looking around. My brain wasn't working right, but with the little brain power I still had I thought only about George. He wasn't in the nurse's office with me and I was scared.

She sat down in front of me with a warm expression. "The nurse went out to tend to him. He's unconscious."

"Let me see him. Please."

"I know how much this hurts, Clay. But he needs to get fixed up before you can see each other."

"Please," I begged, my voice cracking.

"He'll be here soon. I promise. He just needs to be able to move."

"Can I go to him?" I bargained.

"No, I'm sorry. You need rest too."

"No I don't. I need George."

"You'll see him really soon, I promise," she smiled. Try laying down, you might feel better."

Finally realizing there was nothing else I could do. I laid back and stared at the ceiling with tears in my eyes. Someone came in to speak to Mrs. Blaire, but I didn't care what they were saying. Right after that, though, Mrs. Blaire addressed me, softly saying, "I need to go. Will you be okay on your own?"

"Yeah," I mumbled blankly.

I was left in the nurse's office to mull over my thoughts, but my head was cloudy. I was pretty dazed - though I was clear-minded enough to actively know I probably didn't have a concussion, my brain still hurt. I thought I saw George's mom through the window in the door, but because it was tinted, I couldn't be sure. After a few more minutes of staring blankly at my surroundings, the nurse entered the room.

"Where's George?" I immediately pressured, sitting up.

"Sit back down, I need to check if you have a concussion."

"But-"

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Uh... Yeah. Jack made me go outside by blackmailing me so he could beat me up, but I guess my friends followed me 'cause George came to rescue me."

"Alright. Could you try standing up for me?"

I stood up, and though I was a little wobbly, I was mostly fine. The nurse seemed to note this and asked me to sit back down.

"How are you feeling?"

"It's complicated."

"But do you think, given enough time, you could explain it?"

"Yeah. Do you need me to explain?"

"No, I just need to make sure of something." She wrote some more on her clipboard before putting it down and going to her cabinet of various medical objects. It was good timing, too - my adrenaline had worn off and my entire head was in throbbing pain. To my dismay, she only brought out a cloth that she proceeded to wet. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that she wouldn't have any painkillers or something.

"I'm going to wipe your face now."

I nodded, laying back to make it easier on her. I didn't really feel the cloth all that much more than I would usually, but I was panicking to see how red it was when she pulled it away. She then grabbed a dry cloth and wiped again, and this time, it was a lot less red. I could feel how much less wet my face was, and my nose must have stopped bleeding by now.

Just then, the principal opened the door. "Nurse Amy, do you think he can give a testimony?"

"He doesn't have a concussion, but he's not completely right, either. I wouldn't force him to do anything, but if he's up to it, he can."

He nodded. "Clay, would you be alright with that?"

"Uh... yeah. Sure."

"Alright. Follow me."

I got up slowly and walked over to the doorway, following the principal to his office near the front of the school. When we got there, I saw that Ms. Mansell and Mrs. Blaire were already there. I took a seat next to the latter and braced myself for the interrogation.

"Hello, Clay," Ms. Mansell said. Her voice was slow and calm. "Would you like to tell us about the incident?"

"Um..." I looked around at the three adults looking at me attentively. I was nervous, but I needed to speak so nothing would be brought against George and me. "So, I guess Jack doesn't like me for some reason. And so he wanted to beat me up, but he needed me to be alone, so he blackmailed me into meeting him behind the school alone."

"Blackmail? That's a serious accusation," Ms. Mansell said, keeping the same tone but looking suspicious.

"That's what it is," I defended. "Go check his phone, you'll see the video."

"He's right," Mrs. Blaire assured her. "We confiscated it after he confessed it was involved, and sure enough, there was a clearly nonconsensually recorded video of him and George."

My heart sank. I wasn't intending to play it to them, but if they already saw it...

As if she could read my mind, Mrs. Blaire added, "Clay, don't worry, you're not getting expelled or anything. Since it hadn't been shown to any parents or anything, there's no controversy. As long as this video is deleted, there should be nothing to worry about."

"O-Okay," I mumbled.

"So Jack blackmailed you into going outside so he could hurt you. What happened after that?" the principal continued.

"George, Nick, Alex, all of those people who were there, they must have followed me outside. And George knocked Jack off of me - I was on the ground and defenseless at the time - but he couldn't keep him down. Then Jack... slammed his head into the ground a few times."

They looked at each other. It looked like I was matching whatever they knew so far.

"Then I wanted to help, but I couldn't because I was too weak, so Dave and one of his friends pulled Jack off and pinned him to the wall and hit him a few times. And then you guys came."

After a moment of contemplative silence, Ms. Mansell said, "Well, lucky for you, Clay, we got cameras installed back there at the beginning of the year. And everything you said matches up. Except for the blackmailing, which the principal and I have yet to see proof for. Blaire, do you still have the phone?"

"Yes. It's in my desk, though."

"Go get it for me," she ordered. Mrs. Blaire nodded, quickly standing up to go grab it with the principal following behind to presumably make sure nothing would be tampered with. Just then, an electronic chime rang out. Ms. Mansell looked out the window towards the receptionist desk and smiled. "Clay, I believe your dad is waiting for you outside. Why don't you go on home?"

"Wait. Am I... y'know... in trouble?"

"If you're being truthful about the blackmail, then no, you're not. You're clearly the victim here."

"What about George?"

She frowned. "He's not coming to school for the next week or two. He-"

"You can't do that! Please-"

"Let me speak." Despite it being a command, she was still softspoken. "I was about to say, he's not coming to school because he has a pretty awful concussion."

"Oh..."

She shook her head. "Don't be too hard on yourself. I know how emotionally charged this whole situation is. Now, feel free to go on home."

"Thanks for everything. You're really an amazing vice principal. "

"I just want to do my job well. There's already enough injustices in the education system; I don't want to be one of them."

"Yeah. Thanks."

"No problem."

I stood up, still going slow, and moved to leave the principal's office. As soon as I stepped out, my dad rushed over to me. 

"Clay!" he breathed, giving me a big hug. "You're okay! Thank God, George's mom says he has a really bad concussion and I was worried what that boy did to you-"

"Dad, I'm fine. But can I see George?"

He looked up at me and frowned. "I'm sorry, he already went home and his mom doesn't want you to visit."

"Why not?"

"Clay, he just had a severe concussion," he sighed. "I'm sure she doesn't want anything that might bring him an emotional response."

"But I want to tell him I forgive him."

"That's good, but you should wait. You need to rest too, after all."

"Alright," I sighed sadly. "I'll go get my stuff."

"No need. I already sent Cassie to go do that."

"Is she going home early too?"

"No, but she wanted to help. Speaking of, here she is now," he commented as my sister came into view.

"Should've brought me to the fight. I would have kicked his ass," she grumbled, coming down the way with my bag.

"Cassie, you're strong, but he's stronger," I said. "I wouldn't want you to end up like George."

"What happened to him?"

"You didn't see?" I wondered.

"No."

"I'll tell you later, then. Thanks for getting my stuff."

"No problem. Go get some sleep."

"Yeah, thanks."

I followed my dad outside into the parking lot. The clouds were still high in the sky, and it looked like it was about to rain. To my surprise, he stopped in front of my car and asked, "You got your keys?"

"Huh?"

"I took an Uber to school because I didn't want to leave your car here. That's why I took so long."

"Oh. Yeah, here." I fished them out of my pocket and handed them to him. He opened the door and we both got in. My car is my dad's old car, so he was at least somewhat familiar with it, and we were on the road in no time. The entire time, both of us were silent, mostly because I was feeling drowsy and my dad could probably tell.

As we got into my house, I was prepared to fall onto the couch and pass out, but my dad insisted I go upstairs, so that's what I did. Patches followed curiously, but my dad made her stay out of my room. I wanted to hold her, but it's probably for the best she stayed out.

"Do you want any sort of Tylenol PM or something?"

"That'd be great. My head hurts like hell."

"Alright, I'll be right back."

He left for a while before coming back with two pills of Tylenol PM and a bottle of water. "Sorry I took so long. The godforsaken pill holders were giving me trouble."

"It's fine. Thanks for bringing this."

"No problem. Drink up," he ordered softly, giving me the bottle and pills. I downed the pills and put the water bottle on my bedside table before pulling up my bed's covers and getting cozy. "Wait, are you gonna sleep in your clothes?"

"Mhm," I mumbled drowsily.

He smiled. "Alright. Love you, Clay."

"I love you too, Dad."

He quickly left, probably to go cry happy tears. I rarely, if ever, said I loved him. But right now, he really deserves that. Maybe he always did, but... I could never say it until recently. My mind wandered towards George again, wondering how he was doing. He'd probably be napping too. I fell asleep smiling, looking forward to all of the kisses and hugs I could give him when I saw him next.

Who would have thought that getting beat up could mend relationships so well?


	16. In Sickness and In Health

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains two possible TWs: Mild description of injury and mention/responsible use of medical drugs.

I woke up at 6 AM in excruciating pain. If it was this bad, I'm surprised I managed to sleep even for that long. I groaned, trying to get the cold side of the pillow, but neither side was cold enough. I gave up and got out of bed, switching out my clothes for some cozy pajamas. I felt that my phone was still in my pocket and, upon further inspection, out of charge, so I put it on my bedside table and plugged it in.

On my way to the stairwell, I looked in the bathroom mirror, examining the damage done to my face. There was a small scab on my lip from where it was bleeding yesterday, but it had healed quite fast and was barely noticeable by now. There were a few bruises scattered across my pale skin, the worst of it surrounding my eye. The black eye didn't really function any different than my good eye, and I was hardly squinting through it. Though none of this hurt, I still had a general headache.

I was careful on my way down the stairs, nervously gripping the railing as I stepped slowly down. Patches darted past the base of the stairs as I approached while my dad was on the couch, watching the news like he always did in the mornings. He quickly turned his attention to me when the bottom stair creaked under my weight.

"Clay!" he greeted happily. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I guess the painkiller wore off."

"Probably. Anyway, how are you feeling?" He turned down the volume on the TV to hear me better.

"Pretty bad. My head still hurts."

"Yeah, about that..." He shifted guiltily. "I need to go out to the store because we really don't have any more painkillers or anything. Cassie used the last of the Advil earlier this month and forgot to ask me to get more, and I'm obviously not giving you another Tylenol PM because it's 6 AM."

"Oh."

"I mean, I was imagining you'd wake up later so I'd have time, but I better go now that you're up," he reasoned. He stood up, turned off the TV, and moved to grab everything he needed to go out. "I'll be back soon. Don't do anything stupid while I'm out, okay?"

"Gotcha."

He placed a hat on his head and left out the garage door. Since my phone was still upstairs and I didn't have the motivation to go back up the stairs, I busied myself with looking for Patches so I could cuddle up with her on the couch. I checked her usual corners, but the place I finally found her was on one of the stairs. Chuckling slightly, I scooped her up and brought her over to the couch, laying down slowly and gently placing her close to my chest. She could have left if she wanted to, but she seemed content and curled up there. We lay like that for a good while, Patches relishing in the scritches I was giving her every so often. My dad was going to be gone for at least 20 minutes, so there was plenty of time to sit with her and distract myself from the pain.

As the minutes ticked by, though, I found myself longing for something more. Or, more specifically, someone more. I hadn't seen George since I was pulled away to go to the nurse's office yesterday. I didn't know how bad of a condition he was in or if he'd be willing to make up so quickly. I was more than willing - after all, he took all of that beating for me. If that's not true remorse, I don't know what is.

I reached for my phone to text him, but then I remembered it was upstairs. Sighing sadly, I asked, "What should I do, Patches?"

She meowed when I said her name, but otherwise stood still. Well, that didn't give me any ideas. Although I would normally take a nap in a situation like this, I don't think I could sleep because of the pain I was in. So I instead just gave up, settling for giving Patches lots of pets in the meantime.

After what felt like an hour of having a throbbing headache and a soft cat on my chest, my dad finally returned, many groceries in tow. I gently nudged Patches onto the couch so I could go over to help him with putting everything away, but he insisted, "Go lie back down, I'll bring you the Advil."

"Alright," I said. I would have had to sit back down anyway because I got up way too fast and was having dark spots in my vision. I slowly laid back down, my cat having run away elsewhere since I pushed her off and she was now discontent with the couch. I could hear my dad rummaging around for a while before he walked over to me with a glass of water and a small pill.

"Here you go."

"Thanks," I said, sitting up and taking the objects in his hands. I downed the pill and laid back down, closing my eyes. It was undoubtedly going to take at least a little while, but I didn't care knowing that it would get better. I got up, much slower this time, and went up to the stairwell.

"Hey, where are you going?" my dad asked quickly.

"Getting my phone."

He shook his head. "I don't think you should be looking at your phone screen if you have a headache."

My heart sank. "Can I at least ask George if I can visit?"

"I'll call his mom for you if you want to know," he compromised. "Just... stay off the phone for now."

"Okay, but please call her."

"I will."

I sat back, sliding into a laying position. My dad continued putting stuff away, but soon came over and sat down on the chair a few feet away from the couch, holding his phone. He hit contact and held it up to his ear. I could hear the audio because his volume was up so high, though.

"Morning, Todd. What's the matter?" George's mom greeted.

"Morning, Deborah," my dad responded. "Uh... Clay wanted to know if he could visit today. He's been looking pretty down."

"I'd love to have him over," she said, making my heart jump. "...but I'm taking George to the doctor in an hour or so to check for the possibility of a skull fracture."

My heart immediately sank again. A skull fracture sounded scary. Is that really what it was..?

My dad clearly thought along the same lines. "A skull fracture? That sounds pretty bad."

"I just want to make sure what it is," she assured him. "Based on what the nurse told me, his concussion is pretty bad, and in a case where it's so deliberate like this, a skull fracture is pretty possible."

"You said you didn't think it was bad enough to press charges," my dad said, sounding incredulous. I was confused - I hadn't heard anything about pressing charges.

"Well, I still stand by that. There's no _guarantee_ it's a skull fracture, just a possibility."

"Still..." he trailed off. "Are you _really_ sure you don't want to press charges? I have connections to lots of prosecutors who would be more than willing to pursue this case with all the proof we and the school have. Even if we ignore the medical aspect, he still committed a serious crime with that blackmail and recording a minor."

"What's this about blackmail?" she asked, voice rising.

"Well..." he looked at me. "Wait, let me move, Clay is right here."

"Alright."

My dad got up and moved, but the room he went to was his office, which had thin walls, and it sounded like he put it on speaker, so I could almost hear the conversation even better now. "So basically, the reason Clay went out to confront Jack in the first place was because Jack managed to take a video of him and George-"

"Stop there. I know what you mean." It sounded like she took a deep breath before she started screaming. "That little piece of shit! I never knew that. I was willing to get over what he did to George, but he took a video of that? I know he lives close, but still. I can't imagine Clay and George were stupid enough to leave the blinds open."

"While I thankfully haven't seen it, but from what Mrs. Blaire tells me that's exactly what happened."

"Mrs. Blaire saw it?"

"Do you think she did it for fun? Clay made a claim of blackmail, the school needed to check it. I trust her."

"I suppose... Well, I don't know a thing about pressing charges, and since they're both legal adults, I'm worried that we can't do it for them, you know? But if we can, I'm more than happy to."

"Like I said, I have lots of help from my firm. As long as Clay and George consent to the case, we ought to be able to.

She sighed. "I'll help however I can. I just want my children to be healthy and happy, so if we can make Jack pay-"

"Excuse me? I'm Clay's dad. I know I wasn't the best for a long while, but-"

"I know, I know, I didn't mean anything by it. But I still care a lot about Clay because when he and George get married-"

"Wh- marriage? I mean, both of them are barely 18. They're still in high school. There's no saying whether they're going to want to marry each other-"

"Please, do you think they're not going to be super close when they can see each other again? I saw George cuddling his pillow and mumbling Clay's name when I went up to check on him a few minutes ago. Plus, it sounds like Clay's pretty eager to see him again too."

My cheeks flushed warm. It's a little weird to have your parent talking to someone else's parent about your possible marriage, but knowing that George was cuddling his pillow and thinking about me made me more than a little soft.

"Oh, alright. Continue."

"There's not much else," she admitted. "You can search into pressing charges, but I can't be much help unless you tell me what to do. Otherwise, I was thinking of talking to the school to get Jack expelled."

"If he's convicted, he'll be expelled," my dad said reasonably. "Even if he doesn't get jail time."

"Obviously, but what if the charges fall through?"

"In that case, I'd think the school has it worked out already."

"Fair enough."

There was a moment of silence between them before George's mom spoke up again. "Well, I need to go wake up George so he can have breakfast."

My dad chuckled lightly. "You know, you're a really good person."

"Thank you."

"I'll see you some other time. Bye."

"Goodbye."

With that, she hung up. My dad soon opened his office door and I dropped in milliseconds to pretend I was trying to get some sleep. As I kicked back, though, I finally noticed that my headache had gone away. The Advil must have kicked in.

"Clay?" my dad called.

"Hm?" I answered, already knowing what he was going to say.

"Sorry, you can't go over. George's mom is taking him to get checked for a skull fracture because she's worried that he may have gotten one."

"Oh. Alright."

I closed my eyes, head buzzing with worries for George. I ran my hands across my face but quickly pulled them back as they brushed over the various bruises. I went upstairs to try and sleep again, resisting the temptation to grab my phone. It wouldn't really do me any good. Falling asleep was pretty difficult since I couldn't find any comfortable position for my head, but I eventually managed to drift off.

I was rudely woken up at about 4 PM by my phone ringing. It looked like Cassie had brought Patches in while I was sleeping, as the kitten was now curled up next to me but my door was still closed. Scritching behind her ears slightly, I picked up the call.

"How are you, Clay?" George's mom said, seeming glad that I picked up.

"I'm good. How's George?"

"They did a scan, and, well... he has a fracture. A simple linear one, if I remember correctly."

"What!? Is he okay? What's going to happen?"

"Don't worry, Clay," she said soothingly. "He's going to be okay. They say he needed 2 days of complete rest, but since he already had one, I was thinking you could come over."

"Really?"

"Yep. I'm sure it would be a really nice surprise."

"Thank you so much."

"I forbid you from driving, though," she added. "I know the nurse said you weren't concussed, but I'm not going to have you doing anything like that just in case. If you want to come over, you need to ask your dad."

"Of course I want to go over! I'll ask my dad right now."

"That's very sweet of you, Clay." Though I couldn't see her, I could tell she was smiling. "George and I will be back in forty-five minutes. His dad will be there to let you in."

"Wait, isn't he back at George's grandparents?"

"He came back as soon as he could after he heard."

"Oh, okay. Well, tell him I'll see him soon."

"Understood. Can't wait to see you again, Clay!"

"You too!"

With that, I ended the call. I rolled over onto my pillow, holding it gently. Through my anger the past week, I didn't realize how starved I felt. I guess I'm a very physical person when it comes to love, so having been separated from George was all the more painful. I miss holding him, or him holding me, or both of us holding each other. I miss holding his hand while we do some menial task. I just miss him in general.

I hopped out of bed to get something besides my pajamas on, eagerly making sure I looked presentable. I knew George didn't want me to look fancy, but I thought it was the least I could do. My dad noticed this when I went downstairs, commenting, "Woah, where do you think you're going?"

"Can you take me to George's house?" I asked innocently.

"Wh- Isn't he at the hospital?" my dad responded, confused.

I was practically bouncing on the balls of my feet. "Yes, but his mom offered for me to go and surprise him. They'll be back in a little over half an hour."

"Clay, are you sure you're ready for that?"

"The only reason he even needed to go to the hospital was because he jumped in to defend me. Without him, I would have probably ended up worse than he did. I'm not going to leave him alone," I said willfully.

"Still..." he trailed off, avoiding my eyes. "I know this may be sensitive for you, but... are you just going to ignore all of what he did?"

"No. I'm just getting over it. I don't feel betrayed or hurt anymore."

"Don't rush yourself."

"I'm not, I promise."

He sat for a moment, looking contemplative. I could see why he would be concerned, but I really wanted to go see George.

"Please?" I added, trying to convince him. "I want to go see George."

Finally, he caved, "Alright. Go finish getting ready. Text me later if you're staying over, but otherwise, I'll come to pick you up at 8."

"Really? Thank you so much!"

I slid into my shoes and fixed up my hoodie a little bit. My face was still covered in bruises, but it's not like I could do much to fix that anyway. I waited for my dad to go out to his car and together, the two of us departed.

"Hey, Clay, we're about to pass by the shopping center," he commented at a stoplight.

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you want to get him any sort of card or cookies or something?"

"Oh. Um... sure."

He pulled into the shopping center, adding, "Although, Clay, um... people would probably get the wrong idea if I went in there with you. Do you want me to go in or would you rather go?"

"I was thinking I would go," I responded, unbuckling my seatbelt.

"Alright. You have money?"

"Yep."

"Good. Don't take longer than ten minutes."

"I won't."

I rushed out of the car and into the grocery store. Already I could tell I was getting some side glances, but I ignored them and headed towards the card area of the store. Most of the get-well cards were too sappy in my opinion, but there was one with a tabby cat on it, so I grabbed that one even though it was also sappy. After grabbing that, I quickly went to the pastry area and grabbed a box of sugar cookies. I looked briefly for some blue ones because George loved blue, but sadly, blue was out of season and the only options were orange, yellow, or green. I opted for yellow because it was his second favorite and it had blue sprinkles anyway.

Now that I had everything, I made my way to the checkout area. The self-checkout was way too full, so I opted for regular checkout. The retail person didn't comment on my seemingly injured state, instead just being silent and putting through all two of my items. I, too, was silent in thanking them before I went back to my dad's car.

I was bouncing my knee the entire drive there. Saying I was super excited would be an understatement - I was positively thrilled that I would get to see George again. As we pulled into his neighborhood, my heart felt like it was about to burst. It was a similar feeling to the last time I pulled in here, but for a much, much different reason.

Finally, my dad stopped outside his house on the corner. I got out, waved him goodbye, and stepped toward the door. After a single ring of the doorbell, George's dad opened the door to greet me.

"Hey, Clay!" he said. He looked a little tired but was smiling all the same. "George is going to be so happy. Did you really bring him cookies _and_ a card?"

"Yep. I dunno if he needs some specific diet or anything, but I thought it'd be nice-"

"No, no, don't worry about it. He can eat anything as long as he also gets lots of water."

"That makes sense. Anyway, can I borrow a pen? I want to write something in this card before he gets here."

"Yeah, of course. They're in that cup over there." He pointed towards a mug sitting on their kitchen counter which had a bunch of pens standing in it. I grabbed a dark blue one and started writing.

_Hey George,_

_This might get kinda sappy so if you can't be emotional because of your concussion you don't have to read it_

_Otherwise, I just wanted to tell you that I love you. And I never did stop loving you, but it's just... after what you said, I was so hurt and confused that I couldn't put my feelings in order. But with thanks from Bad (who else?), I got it all sorted out and was tempted to tell you yesterday even without all this shit happened. That didn't work out, obviously, but you get my point._

_Anyway, after you saved me, I realized something. Before, after what you said, it didn't feel like you loved me. Nobody who loved me would say something like that. But when you pushed that asshole off of me and took a concussion in my place, I knew that you loved me. You knew that you wouldn't win a fight like that, and yet you engaged him just to protect me. If it weren't for you, I would have ended up worse than you did. So t_ _hank you, George._

_I_ _f you're up to it, I was thinking we could end our two-week break early. Granted, we should still reestablish boundaries and such. I think we might have jumped into things a bit too fast before the breakup. Again, if you're not ready, I completely understand that and we can continue to be apart. I'm ready whenever you are._

_Love,  
Clay _♡

"You done?" George's dad asked after I stopped writing.

"Yeah."

"Good, because George is gonna be here any second now."

"He is!? Oh, damn."

I took a seat on their couch and took a few deep breaths, readying myself. I heard some jiggling at the front door and closely watched it open as George's mom and George stepped in.


	17. Reconciliation

"Clay!?"

"George!"

He had a bandage wrapped around his forehead, but that didn't cover the other abrasions and bruises that absolutely covered his face. There was barely any normal skin left. His left eye, like mine, was swollen and purple, but his was so much worse. His cheeks were purple and brown with bruises while his chin was scraped to hell. I teared up, only imagining how much pain he was in from all of that.

"Wh- I- Clay!" he sputtered, taking a tentative step towards me.

"George..." I repeated, standing up and taking a few steps towards him.

He looked around. "Did you... are those cookies for me...?"

"Yes! I-I wrote you a card and got you some cookies. U-Um..."

I couldn't believe I was tripping on my words. I loved him, I was so positive that I did. So why couldn't I be firm saying that?

"Wait, but I don't... C-Clay, I don't deserve this-"

"You do, George. Read the card, I explained everything. I want to tell you with my voice, but I-I... don't think I can..." My voice faded as tears welled up in my eyes. My brain was going haywire and I was starting to hyperventilate. He struggled to grab the card, missing it a few times before picking it up. I just realized that he probably shouldn't be reading with a concussion, but his mom didn't make any effort to stop him.

I followed his eyes trace the words on the page slowly, even doubling back quite a few times. Finally, he put it down and choked, "Are you... serious about all this?"

"Yeah..."

We each took a few more steps towards each other. His face was now only inches from mine as his hand traced to my waist. I brought my hand to his cheek and we titled our heads together so the tips of our noses touched. His was rough from being scraped, but I didn't care. 

His voice was a soft whisper, barely audible as he mumbled, "So... do you... um..."

Though he didn't finish his sentence, I knew what he wanted to say. "I... I think we should get back together."

"I do too. B-But I didn't know if you wanted to..."

"Of course I do. I love you so, so much."

We closed the gap, now only half an inch between our faces. I could feel his breath as I'm sure he could feel mine.

"Are you okay with this?" I asked, my heart practically in my throat. 

"Y-Yeah."

The hands that were hanging at our sides became intertwined. His palms and knuckles were scabbed and rough like his nose. I felt so awful for him, but right now, I was more focused on how my heart was beating rapidly and my cheeks were flushing warm.

We finally tilted our heads back up and our lips met in a soft embrace. It felt so great - it wasn't exactly making out, but simply pure, slow kissing. He tilted his head to the side a bit to make it easier, causing the hand on his cheek to slide into his hair. I stroked it before gently placing it behind his head, fiddling a little bit with his dark brown locks. The bandages were in the way of my giant hands being able to securely hold his head, but I was more than content with this anyway.

After many moments of bliss, we broke apart. Tears were coming down his cheeks, as was the same with me. His brown eyes, though probably dull because of his pain, seemed to sparkle to me.

The hand that was playing with his hair went down to grab the one at my waist, locking together like the other pair. He gave me a wobbly smile before throwing his arms around me and crying into my chest. I was crying too, but he was heaving out sobs whereas I simply had tears trickling down my face.

I finally realized that his parents might have only been a few feet away, but looking around, I didn't see them. They must have gone to the kitchen or something.

"Let's go to your room, yeah?" I suggested.

"Y-Yeah."

I kept my left hand entwined with his right, but I threw my right arm around his shoulders to support him. His walking was a little bit wobbly and we had to go very slowly, but eventually, I laid him on his bed and sat next to him. To my surprise, he whined and put his head on my lap.

"Bit fast, don't you think?" I chuckled, ruffling his hair slowly as to not disturb the bandages.

He suddenly looked concerned. "Are you okay with it?" 

"Of course," I assured him, squeezing his hand gently. "I just didn't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Trust me, this is the most comfortable I've been in at least a week."

"That's fair. Can I call you Gogy again?"

"Only if I can call you Terracotta."

"What?" I giggled, eventually devolving into hacking laughs.

"You know how in Minecraft, you like, smelt clay blocks to get terracotta?" he stumbled, trying to explain how far he was reaching for the pet name while speaking over my strange lung noises.

After calming down a bit, I said, "That's reaching... but I guess it's passable for a concussed person."

He pouted. "Whatever, Terracotta. Actually, wait, you can make other cute nicknames that aren't so awkward in your opinion. Like Cot or Terra."

"Okay, Greg."

"You're such a dork, Cot," he laughed.

"Mhm," I hummed, tracing his sternum with my finger. We sat in silence for a while more, George yawning every so often. Normally, I hated silence, but when I was with George, there were so many unspoken words that filled my head more than enough.

"So... about our parents pressing charges-"

"Shhh," I hushed him. "Don't think too much. Only cuddles."

He nodded slowly. "Only cuddles," he agreed, nuzzling against my abdomen. My heart felt like it did several backflips when he did that.

We stayed silent for a while like that, George's yawns becoming frequent. "Y'know," I said, also yawning. "This kinda reminds me of that time a few days after we started dating where I just showed up on, like, 3 hours of sleep over 2 days."

"Funny how the roles reverse, huh?" he yawned.

"Yeah," I chuckled, ruffling his hair gently.

He looked at the wall and then back up at me, giggling profusely. 

"Whatcha laughing about?" I inquired, poking him on the nose.

"I was thinking... does this mean you're the top now?"

I rolled my eyes, my cheeks flushing pink. I brought my hands up to cover my face, mumbling, "Don't remind me of that. We wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for... that."

"Sorry, sorry. But you asked."

There wasn't much more conversation after that, as it seemed George was slipping in and out of consciousness. I kept as still as possible to give him an easier time to fall asleep, and clearly, it was working.

"Your leg is really nice," he mumbled drowsily.

"Uh... thanks?"

"I think I'm going to go to sleep on it."

"O-Okay?"

He closed his eyes, looking like a sleeping beauty despite all his injuries. After admiring him for a while, I was just about to text my dad to see if I could stay over when a sudden snore shocked me. I looked down, and sure enough, George was snoring. It was oddly cute - though gravelly like a normal snore, it was kind of high pitched and reminded me of a small bird. I never would have guessed that he snored at all, but then again, his neck is in an awkward position on my leg. Smiling, I left him where he was so I didn't disturb him, though I did tenderly stroke his hair every so often.

After a few minutes, there was a soft knocking on the door. "Come in," I answered.

George's mom stepped in, taking in the scene in front of her with a confused expression. George's snoring appeared to be new to her as well. 

"I just wanted to check on you guys. And... well, as cute as you two are like this, he needs proper head support." She nodded at George's head resting on my lap.

"That's understandable," I sighed. I would have liked to stay like this, but I don't want him to be in any more discomfort.

"Could you stack two or three pillows under his head?" she requested.

"Of course."

I grabbed some of his pillows and piled them up on their usual side of the bed. I very carefully rotated George so his head was above the pillows and gently dropped his head down onto them. It looked like he stayed asleep the whole time, though he stopped snoring.

I slowly got up, being sure not to disturb George or his various pillows. George's mom and I closed the door on him as I followed her downstairs. I just then remembered about his cat, because the grey feline brushed against me as soon as I got downstairs. Almost instinctively, I scooped him up and pet him softly as George's mom went to the kitchen.

"You want anything to eat or drink, Clay?" she offered.

"Sure. Do you guys have chocolate milk?"

"Naturally."

While she politely poured me a glass, I put the cat on the ground again and took a seat at the counter. George's cookies were sitting where I had placed them before. This stirred up a thought within me. "Wait, is George going to have dinner today?"

George's mom placed the glass of chocolate milk in front of me. "Well, I was going to bring it up to him. We're thinking of having pizza, so it's the easiest thing."

"Ohhh." I took a gulp of the chocolate milk, wiping my face on the back of my hand. "Also, um... I don't want to impose or anything, bu-"

She cut me off, already having the exact idea of what I was gonna say. "You can stay, but no sleeping with George yet. We still have that mattress, but I'll need to wash the sheets."

"I can wash them," I suggested.

"That's very thoughtful of you, but I'm fine with doing it. Now, I expect that you haven't had any lunch because your dad tells me you were passed out until I called. Do you want anything to eat?"

"Oh, uh... it's almost 5, I'll just wait until dinner."

"Alright."

I quickly finished the chocolate milk as George's mom went to go wash the sheets. After rinsing and cleaning the glass, I moved to the couch and laid down, George's cat jumping up onto me. He was a lot heavier than Patches and felt more crushing, but it was still comforting and I pulled out my phone to text my dad. Though I was bored, I couldn't do anything else because looking at my phone too much was giving me a headache. I zoned out for a while, letting the time pass by until George's parents were suddenly answering the door for a pizza.

George's cat got off of me at my request so I could stand up and go over to them. Yawning, I asked, "Should I take some up to George?"

His mom nodded. "Sure, that'd be great. I'll bring the sheets up after dinner."

I grabbed two plates, piling on a few slices for both of us, and retreated to George's room. He didn't notice me for a moment as he was yawning widely, but quickly jumped up when he saw me.

"Clay!" he smiled. "Thank God, I've been getting so bored up here."

"Haven't you been asleep?" I asked, curious.

"Nah. You were not subtle at all with moving me to a different pillow."

"Hey, blame your mom," I shrugged. "I would have kept you on my leg."

"Aw, thank you. Anyway, thanks for the pizza." He sat up, letting the blanket he was in drop to his waist. Him doing that made me realize he was shirtless, the smooth unblemished skin of his torso contrasting his still admittedly awful face. I blushed but didn't look away. 

George didn't pick up on this in his dazed state, instead making grabby hands at me and my pizza. I quickly rushed over to sit next to him and give him his plate. He made a noise of protest and awkwardly scooched to be sat between my open legs, where he nuzzled up into the cavity created by my legs and my torso. I blushed even deeper, awkwardly trying to eat my pizza with my arms wrapped around him to ignore the feeling growing below my stomach. I eventually got more comfortable, resting my head on top of his when my plate was empty. My hands traced up and down his chest, holding together just about his pecs before dropping to his waist. George was still eating his pizza at a really slow pace, probably trying to not get any grease on his scabbed chin.

I held him tighter, moving to rest my head on his shoulder. He smiled and rubbed back against my head after he finished his last slice.

"How long can we stay like this?" I asked softly.

"Forever would be nice," he said, turning his head so our noses were touching.

I beamed wider, chuckling, "I can't sit here forever, my legs would fall off."

"Then can we lay down?"

"Alright, but move your plate."

We put our plates on the floor and I gently laid down with him, spooning him protectively with one arm under his pillows for extra support. He seemed happy to be like this for a long time.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too," he responded, snuggling deeper into my arms. "Can you... um... sleep with me?"

I sighed. As much as I want to, I knew his mom wouldn't let me. "Maybe."

He whined, turning around to grab me tightly. His grip was surprisingly strong, but not unbearable. "There. Now you can't leave."

Suddenly, George's mom opened the door with sheets in her arms. She gave a begrudging frown when she saw us. "George, honey, he can't sleep with you."

"Why not?" he pouted.

"Because you're covered in open wounds. I can't have him drooling on or kissing you because you could get an infection," she said, dropping the sheets on the ground.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I'll be down here, George."

"Please?"

"No. I'm sorry, but that's final."

George looked at me as if I could overturn her decision, but I shrugged and got out of his bed to help his mom with the sheets. After pulling the mattress out from under George's bed, I pulled the sheets over it and stole one of George's pillows. There was also an extra blanket in his closet that I placed over the mattress.

"Thank you, Clay," George's mom said. "Did you tell your dad that you're staying?"

"Oh, no. I'll do that."

She shook her head. "No need. I already did."

"Oh. Thanks."

"No problem. Goodnight, guys."

"Goodnight," I said.

"'Night," George echoed.

She turned off the light and left George and me in the dark. It sounded like George passed out almost immediately, but even then, I said aloud, "Goodnight, Gogy. I love you."

And to my surprise, George was awake to respond. 

"I love you too, Clay." ****


	18. Sleepy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Moderately graphic description of an injury.

I woke up early the next morning to hear George's bizarre snoring again. I leaned up on my mattress to look at him, noticing he had removed one of the pillows from beneath his head to cuddle it. He was getting really into cuddling it, too - he had his legs and arms both tightly wound around it. I smiled and admired him for a moment, his features still beautiful despite how roughed up he was. His face especially was looking better than yesterday - the bruises had lost their red tint and now were only a dark brownish purple, and the scrapes were starting to look more coagulated. 

I did have to get up eventually, so I quickly changed into some of my spare clothes that were in his closet. George was still sleeping deeply, his snoring strange and adorable as before. I chuckled softly and quietly left his room.

As I came down the stairs, I saw that George's mom was in the kitchen with an apron on and holding a pan of scrambled eggs. There were a few plates on the table with some toast on them.

"Good morning, Clay," she greeted. "How'd you sleep?"

"Pretty good," I shrugged, yawning. "What time is it?"

"It's 8 AM. Which means that you have been asleep for over 12 consecutive hours."

"Huh?" I sputtered, surprised. "Well... I guess that's right."

She laughed it off, quickly shifting the subject. "What about George? Is he still asleep?"

"Yeah," I confirmed.

"Well, that won't do," she said, scraping some of the finished eggs onto the plates. "Could you go wake him up for me while I finish serving breakfast?"

"Oh, uh... sure."

The request felt a little abrupt, but I went back upstairs regardless and carefully approached George's sleeping figure. He was still cuddling the pillow-like he was earlier, though it looked like his grip was tighter. I poked him gently, yielding no result. He didn't even flinch at all. I tried saying his name at a moderate volume, but that didn't work either, so I decided to be dramatic. I clambered on top of him, leaned into his face, and loudly called, "Morning, Georgie!"

His eyes snapped open as he shouted softly, quickly fixing his gaze at me. "Clay, you prick. I was having a good dream about you." 

I smiled smugly. "Get up, your mom made breakfast."

"I have a skull fracture, bring me food," he retorted.

"Your mom said you should come downstairs."

"Shhh," he hushed, holding out his arms for a hug. Sighing, I returned it, holding him tightly as he gently stroked my hair. We lay next to each other for a moment, basking in the other's presence. I noticed how dazed he looked, even though he was clearly trying to focus on me.

"Do you want me to help you downstairs?" I offered. "I-I don't mean, like, carrying, but I know you have a pretty bad headache, so..."

"That'd be nice," he smiled. "Um... Let me get a shirt on."

And although he said that, he didn't move. A tension spawned in the air between us, the unspoken words between us growing louder as we locked eyes and my breath hitched in my throat.

"Do you... um... wanna kiss?" I finally asked softly.

"Yeah," he breathed.

I cupped his cheek with my hand, leaning in slowly as he did the same. When our lips met, my heart just about exploded with joy. It was gentle and slow, his nose rubbing against mine softly. One of his hands found my free hand and entwined with it, fingers closed together.

After many moments, we broke apart. He was smiling like an idiot, as I'm sure I was too. Without saying anything more, he got out of bed and drudged over to his closet to fish out a pale blue t-shirt. When he just about got it on, he suddenly lost his balance, so I rushed over to give him support. 

"Thanks," he said. "Yesterday morning was even worse because I couldn't even register where my legs were, but today I honestly thought I was doing okay until just then."

"Hey, it's fine," I assured him. "You have a skull fracture, don't push yourself too much."

"Thanks."

We locked eyes awkwardly before I extended a hand, quickly breaking eye contact. He took it, and I could feel how rough his hands still were because of all the scabbing. I threw my other arm around his shoulders and carefully led him out the door and down the stairs. I could smell the finished eggs as we approached his kitchen and took a seat at the counter.

"How are you feeling, sweetie?" George's mom asked her son, placing a glass of water and a pill next to his plate of breakfast.

"Still pretty bad, but... I have something that makes it better." He glanced at me, making me blush and smile.

"That's good," she laughed, following his gaze to me. "Make sure you drink lots of water throughout the day, alright?"

"Yeah."

We began to eat, George being a lot slower than usual the same as he was last night. I was so glad that I could be with him right now, regardless of the situation that put us together. We rested our hands on the table on top of each other, George's being on top of mine. I finished my breakfast when George was only halfway, but it let me go play with his cat who had wandered up to me.

I scooped the gray furball up after a while and brought him to the couch, giving him copious amounts of pets. He was relishing in every single one, purring happily and gently pulling my hand with his paws. Soon enough, George had finished his breakfast and was lumbering over to me and his cat, taking a seat and leaning his head on my shoulder and setting his water bottle on the table in front of us.

"Hey," I said, putting my arm around his shoulder.

"Hey."

I looked around for his mom, making sure we were alone before I continued speaking. Luckily, she was nowhere to be seen, so I quietly asked, "Kiss?"

"I was just about to ask the same thing," he grinned, leaning in for a quick peck on the lips. All the movement startled his cat, who quickly jumped off of me and dashed away. After that, George slid down and laid his head on my thigh. Knowing better, I grabbed a throw pillow from the end of the couch and placed it between his head and my leg so he would be more comfortable. This clearly worked, as he made a noise of content and closed his eyes.

"You just woke up," I chortled. "How are you gonna sleep again?"

"I'm not. I'm just laying here," he replied, stretching out his arms before dropping them on my lap.

"Alright, well, I'll let you do that."

I stared out the window, wondering about the whole situation. It completely broke my heart to know that he was in so much pain and I couldn't really do much besides sitting with him. But I suppose being together was more than enough.

"Clay?"

"Hm?" I responded, looking down at him.

"Where... um... where should we start again?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if we're back together, we're probably not, like, exactly where we were before. After we... did _that_ and all."

"True. Where are you comfortable with being?"

"I dunno. I mean, I'm fine with where we were before, but I can't speak for you."

"I'm fine with that too."

He smiled, stretching his arms straight up and wrapping them around my neck. I held his wrists and moved his hands back down to my heart, then to his. His heartbeat was soft yet fast as his cheeks tinted pink.

"I love you, George," I whispered, brushing a bang away from his bandaged forehead.

"I love you too, Clay."

We sat for a while more, hearing a few brisk footsteps around the house. Soon, George's mom walked into the room with a bunch of medical-looking stuff in her arms. "Oh, there you are," she said, moving over to the chair near the couch. "I was checking for you two in his room, but it looks like you're right here."

"What's all that?" I asked, nodding at her medical supplies.

"New bandaging."

"Oh. Do you want any help?"

She nodded. "Just keep supporting his head with your leg and I'll handle the rest."

"Got it."

I kept George's head steady on my leg while she grabbed a wipe, a section of bandage, and a few squares of gauze. She put on some rubber gloves, put on her glasses, and carefully leaned in. George had closed his eyes again and tilted his head up, allowing his mom to gently remove the bandage from around his head. There were two squares of gauze already on his head, though as she slowly lifted them up, my stomach churned. Not only was the gauze bloody, but the wound it was covering was a wide, long gash that intersected a long bruise where the bridge of his nose was.

"That's where the fracture is," his mom said matter-of-factly. I raised my eyebrows, but she continued and carefully put the used gauze in the plastic bag she brought. She carefully applied the fresh gauze and wrapped up the bandage, securely fastening it behind his head. She finally leaned back, removing her gloves and gently giving her son a hug.

"All done!"

"Nice," I said. "How are you feeling, George?"

"'Bout the same, but it's a little more comfortable."

"That's the best we can ask for," his mom assured us. "Now George, you'd better go upstairs and get some actual rest."

"Can Clay come too?" he pleaded.

"If he wants, but you can't go to sleep with him for the same reason I said yesterday."

I jumped at the opportunity to spend more time with my reinstated boyfriend. "Of course I'll come, George."

"Yay!" he cheered quietly, making grabby arms at me. I helped him up and supported him like I did before. Though I could tell he was probably wanting to be completely swooped up and carried, I didn't have the energy, both mental and physical, to do that.

He slowly lied down into his bed and nodded his head to beckon me to join him. I lay beside him, turning on my side to face him with a smile. I reached out and wrapped my arm around him while my other arm moved to sit under my head as a pillow, as George had taken all the actual pillows. I held his hand gently, whispering, "I don't think words can ever express how much I love you."

"Me neither, but that might be because of my concussion."

I chuckled as he gripped my shirt and pulled me closer to him. He snuggled into my chest, grabbing my arms and moving them around himself. I embraced this by holding him tighter.

"Can you... um... stay with me tomorrow too?" he mumbled into my chest.

I heaved a heavy sigh. "I don't have any days off like you do."

"That's B.S.," he scolded, pouting. "They should give you some time off, too. Being the victim and all."

I chuckled, stroking his hair slowly. "Yeah. I'll see, but I don't know if I can."

"Mmm," he hummed, seemingly dozing off. His smile faded slowly until I could tell he was sleeping lightly. Now I was faced with a dilemma - although his mom said to not sleep with him, I wasn't about to wake him up when he was being so damn cute. I decided to just stay awake myself and let him sleep on me, although that would definitely be hard because whenever I cuddle with George, I start sleeping.

It could have only been a few minutes, or it could have been hours - I couldn't tell. But George was sound asleep on me until the sun was well into its setting. I must have fallen asleep at some point too, judging by the seemingly rapid passing of time. The golden-white light of the sun shone through the blinds and onto the back of George's head, making him look divine. I already knew he was divine, though.

I quietly pulled out my phone, checking the time. It was a little past 4:30, meaning George and I have probably been sleeping for way too long. I was wondering why his mom hadn't come woken us up, but then I noticed that the door was opened slightly. She must have checked on us while we were asleep. I'm surprised she didn't make me wake up, but I guess she figured it was fine for us to sleep together now for whatever reason.

The boy in my arms seemed to be in a deep sleep. Even though he was always a heavy sleeper, he didn't even budge when I sat up, accidentally jostling him a fair amount. Shrugging, I climbed out of his bed, trying to be more careful as to not wake George up. He wasn't awake by the time I got to the door, so I snuck out of his room, hearing conversation from downstairs. 

I recognized the voices of not only George's parents but my own father as well. On top of those three, there was also a completely foreign male voice who spoke slow and deep and honestly just had a calm voice. When I finally arrived downstairs, I saw my dad, George's parents, and a tall man, all sitting at the couch drinking tea. The random guy was wearing a suit and the rest of them were wearing nice clothes, with the dads wearing polos and George's mom in a neat dress. This made me feel severely underdressed, as all I was wearing was pajama pants and a gray t-shirt with no shoes or socks, not to mention how disheveled my hair was.

"Oh, and here's Clay. He's my son," my dad said, nodding at me.

The other man smiled. "Ah. Hello, Clay. I'm going to be the prosecutor responsible for your case."

"Already? Doesn't that take a while?"

The prosecutor nodded. "You're more well-informed than lots of people. Yes, the case hasn't even been initiated yet, but I'm going to be in charge of it. Your dad and George's parents here contacted the authorities already and they selected me quickly because I was the only one who doesn't have any ongoing cases."

"Ohh. Do I need to... y'know... do anything?"

"Mostly, no. Everything is my job, but you will have to come to provide testimony about a month or two from now."

"What about the school and my friends who were there?"

"I will start talking to those people if necessary, but again, _you_ won't need to do anything. In all honesty, though, this should be a pretty open and shut case."

"Oh. What about George, though? Would he testify?"

"We decided to ask him once his concussion is all better," George's mom continued, taking a sip of her tea. "And in the meantime, I'm keeping all of the bills and receipts just in case he also wants to sue for damages. Which, might I add, I definitely want him to."

"I would want him to as well," the prosecutor agreed. "You would easily win the civil case will all the people Clay's dad knows."

My brain was far too foggy to comprehend any more at this point, and it honestly seemed like they were talking to each other more than me, so I decided it would be wise to go back to sleep. I nodded at the prosecutor, saying, "I think I'm gonna go back upstairs. Thanks for doing this."

"Don't mention it," he chuckled.

With an awkward goodbye wave at the party, I retreated upstairs to George's room. The conversation downstairs sounded like it continued without mind of my interruption as I finished the climb up the lonely stairs. Well, I wasn't exactly alone - George's cat was following me. Smiling softly, I scooped him up and entered George's room with the feline in my arms.

"Clay, you gotta stop leaving me while I'm sleeping," George yawned suddenly. "I'm not getting any sleep."

"Pffft." I placed his cat on the ground before rushing over and tackling him into a hug while being as gentle as possible. 

"Anyway, I'm bored up here. Let's watch Youtube."

"I don't think you should watch anything, it'll give you a headache."

"Don't care. Probably just end up falling asleep on you anyway."

I smiled, climbing out of bed to get the controller for his Switch to watch Youtube. I made it quick to not keep George waiting and together, we snuggled up together to watch random funny videos that remind me of being young again... minus all the bad stuff like my mom.

"Can you turn it down, babe?"

"Sure." I turned down the volume before adding, "Y'know, I've been thinking. I kinda want to stop using babe. I mean, it's kinda cringey."

"You know what?" he laughed. "I've been thinking along the same lines ever since we started school this year. The problem is, I don't have any good nicknames for you specifically. At least you have Gogy and Greg and Grog, but you clearly hate my Cot idea-"

"I don't _hate_ it, I just think it's stupid."

"Mhm," he nodded disapprovingly. "Anyway, we should try other pet names that can work both ways."

I thought for a moment, quickly recalling how I called him "divine" earlier. "I think I have a good one."

"Oh? What's that?"

"Angel."

"That works, but I think I'm gonna call you pancake."

"Pancake, huh? Well, it sounds good for now. Definitely better than Terra."

"Stop being a bully," he mumbled, clambering into my lap and resting his head over my heart. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him in affectionately, closing my eyes.

"I love you lots," he giggled.

"I love you lots too, angel."


	19. Chapter 19

"Clay."

I opened my eyes groggily, feeling myself being shaken by the arm.

"Clay, wake up. You have school," George's mom said, frowning slightly. "It's a right shame, considering how cute you are with George here, but you have it nonetheless."

I groaned and begrudgingly relinquished my boyfriend. He was still deep in his slumber, which only hurt more - I could only imagine how sad he would be when he woke up and noticed I wasn't with him.

I then checked the time, George's mom following my gaze.

"I know school starts in about an hour, but I wanted to give you time to wake up so we weren't rushing when it was time."

I nodded. "Alright. I'll go shower and get changed, then."

"Of course," she nodded. "I'll leave you alone."

She quietly left the room, allowing me to look down at George and admire him for a moment. His breath was soft and slow, his chest rising and falling with it. I reached out and squeezed his hand, but didn't do anymore. I didn't want to wake him up, after all.

I checked the mirror after stripping down. My face was slowly healing, but it had really only been two days, so there wasn't any significant progress besides the bruises looking less purple. My head throbbed with pain every so often, but it was easily ignorable. After a brief and slightly painful shower, I returned to George's room in a bath towel.

I quickly put on my shirt and pants, which I had removed during the night. After I got everything back on, I looked back at the sleeping beauty that was George. I wanted to stay with him for a very long time, preferably forever, but I had a whole month and a half of school left until winter break and I didn't have any injuries serious enough to warrant me staying home. And as much as I wanted to give him a kiss before I left, I needed him to be awake to consent to that, so I held off on that, too.

When I got downstairs, I saw George's mom dressed in her medical scrubs and tying up her hair. "Hey, I wasn't expecting you this early," she said.

"Well, I didn't really want to go back to sleep just to be woken up again," I said, crouching and holding my arms out toward the gray cat a few feet in front of me. He jumped into my arms and I held him close to my chest, scritching him behind the ears. "By the way, I thought you started work a lot earlier."

"My supervisor is understanding about this whole situation and filling in until I can get there," she said, smoothing out her hair bun. "But since you're already up, want to leave sooner and go to Starbucks for breakfast as a treat?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

"Okay. Go finish getting ready and we'll leave at 7:20."

I went to brush my teeth and borrowed George's backpack, seeing as I didn't have my own with me. Though I had a few classes differing from his, they didn't require books or notes, so I had all my other classes covered. Both of us were ready at the same time, so we left on time (after I gave the cat a treat for being a good boy).

The drive was mostly quiet, neither of us speaking much. But as we pulled into the shopping center with the Starbucks, I was curious about something.

"Hey, so you know how you said you didn't want me sleeping with George 'cause he could get infected or something?"

"Mhm," she said, turning into the Starbucks drive-thru line.

"We were sleeping together for a lot of yesterday and last night, but you didn't comment on it."

She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, the line ahead of us not moving in the slightest. "If I'm being honest, there was no actual risk of infection. Well, there was some, but that's not why I said it. I said it because I wanted to make sure you two were taking your time, so once you were comfortable enough to break an arbitrary rule I had set on you, I'd figure you were genuinely comfortable enough to actually be sleeping together."

"That's... smart. But wouldn't it have just been easier to just warn us directly? Plus, you were being pretty adamant about it."

"Not necessarily," she said, rounding the turn as the line moved up. "You and George tend not to heed my warnings. Obviously, it's your relationship and I can't interfere, but I'd like to think my advice is correct more often than not no matter how long you've known each other. If I warned you directly, it's more likely you would have brushed it off."

"You really want to see us together, huh?" I chuckled.

She seemed to scan my face carefully before saying her next words, seemingly making sure she wasn't being insensitive. Finally, she smiled, "Clay, until you have inevitably put a ring on my son's finger - or he's put one on yours, I can see either - I'm going to keep coddling you two in the right direction."

I wheezed, though I was a little flustered. My self-proclaimed future mother-in-law treating my marriage with her son as an inevitability felt a bit awkward, but I can't say I disagreed. Still laughing, I said, "Looks like you're already planning the wedding."

"Perhaps," she said, cracking a smile. "Anyway, we're almost at the window, what do you want?"

We ordered a drink and breakfast sandwich each. Personally, I can't stand coffee, so I opted for hot chocolate. George's mom, meanwhile, got herself a latte. I could tell that the cashier was concerned about how roughed up I looked, but she fortunately didn't comment and simply said the standard "Have a good day". Once we got our food, we pulled into the parking lot for a moment to eat and drink. It was about 7:35, so we had plenty of time to make it to school after eating. 

"One more thing," I said between bites.

"What's that?"

"Can I... um... come stay with George for the next week or two?"

"Sure," she nodded. "Make sure to tell your dad."

"Thanks."

Once we both finished, we put the trash in the bag that she had in her car and finished the drive to school. I let her give me a parental kiss on the cheek before heading off into the school building.

As soon as I entered, I could tell I was getting looked at. Some people looked concerned, which was fair, but there was also a good portion of people who were seemingly judging me. I even heard a few whispers like last Monday.

"Can't believe he lost so badly. I thought he was cool."

"Look how bad he is. I can only imagine what happened to George." 

"I heard that Jack really fucked up his boyfriend. I guess Clay is just a co-"

I looked up when the guy suddenly stopped speaking. He was frozen, looking at someone behind me with a scared expression. I whipped around and saw Dave staring him down menacingly, his friends who were at the fight standing around him. His height definitely played into it. He then noticed that I was looking at him and beamed as if he didn't just intimidate someone into silence.

"Clay! Hey man, are you doing okay?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I've been managing."

"Good. Um..." He looked around, figuring out what to say. "If you don't mind me asking, how's George?"

"He's... not great," I admitted sadly.

"Seriously? I would have given Jack worse if I'd known that." The way he said it was casual and a little frightening, but I honestly felt the same way.

"Yeah. He has a concussion and skull fracture."

"You better be taking good care of him. Oh, wait, or... um..."

"We're together again," I assured him. "I'm planning to stay with him for the next week or two."

"Alright." He looked around at the emptying hallways. "Well, class is about to start, so I'll talk to you later."

"Thanks, Dave. For everything."

"Nah, it's not personally for you. I just can't stand people like him."

"Still, thanks."

"I guess I'll take it," he laughed. "Now, see ya."

"See you."

We dashed off to our separate homerooms. Since we had spent all that time talking on top of already being somewhat late, there weren't many people left in the halls, and the bell had since rung by the time I got to my homeroom. I saw all my friends looking at me in concern (minus Alex, as they were in a different homeroom). None sat close enough to talk to me, although Nick gave me a thumbs-up from across the room.

Just then, the PA system rang out with Ms. Mansell's voice. "For today, any periods students would have had with Mrs. O'Perra have been replaced by study halls. Additionally, certain students will be meeting with their counselors during these times. I repeat, any periods students have with Mrs. O'Perra today will be replaced by study halls."

I could already guess I'd be one of the students to meet with a counselor, but I didn't mind much. My counselor, though sadly not Mrs. Blaire, was still good at her job. I was also confused about Mrs. O'Perra's classes - I can't imagine they'd already have fired her, especially if there was to be no replacement.

Armed with this new information, we started towards our next class. Nick, Bad, Zak, and I stood side by side, the three of them seeming to want to make sure I was okay all at the same time. Naturally, Bad spoke first. 

"How are you feeling, Clay?"

"My head kinda hurts, but overall I'm actually pretty good," I said, thinking about George.

"Huh?" Nick asked, confused. "That's great, but I'm surprised that you're- Ohhhhhhh. You and George back together?"

"Yeah," I grinned sheepishly.

He nodded. "Well, how's he doing?"

"Pretty badly. Jack... he... gave him a skull fracture." I frowned sadly, remembering how dazed my boyfriend was.

He heaved a sigh and glared at no one in particular. "Y'know, sometimes murder is okay."

"Nick, you know that's not true," Bad scolded. 

"It's about to be."

We laughed happily as we made our way into first period. It honestly felt like a normal school day, although even the teacher was looking at me with concern every so often as he taught. I was eager to get through the day and see George again, He never mentioned if he was going to need his work, but I'd guess he wouldn't since it's not like he would be able to anyway. Plus, Bad had probably started gathering it by now.

I had a normal school day until fourth period when the study hall was. Just as I had guessed, a little after the period began, my counselor leaned into the room and beckoned me to her office. I took a seat across from her as she moved a book to the side of her desk.

"Good morning, Clay," she greeted. "You probably have a good idea as to why you're here. But, just in case, do you have any questions?"

"Yeah, actually. Where's Mrs. O'Perra?" I inquired.

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Actually, Ms. Mansell is actually going to get over here after she meets with someone's parents and she's going to explain that to you when she does, so let's wait for her."

"Okay. Then I don't have any other questions."

"Alright. In that case, let me begin by saying this - how are you feeling right at this moment?"

I took a moment to think about how I felt before putting it into words. Finally, I mumbled, "Anxious, I guess."

"Do you think you could explain why? It's fine if you can't, I just want to check."

Again, I paused to consider my answer, but it was shorter this time. "Well, I really want to go see George after school. And then I feel like everyone's judging me because I lost that fight so badly. Then I'm going to be involved in a criminal case, and I don't know what I'm doing."

"Those are all very good reasons to be anxious, Clay. But let's break it down. First, have you been informed about how these kinds of criminal cases work?"

"Yeah. I met with the prosecutor the other day."

"What did he say?"

"He said that I wouldn't have to be involved, but I'd still have to testify."

She nodded. "He's right. And when it comes to you testifying, you'll be okay. It's normal to be scared in court, but no one there is trying to hurt you, especially if you're testifying."

I nodded, still nowhere near at ease.

"And as for George, I take it your relationship with him is going well?" she asked, sounding cautious.

"I mean... yeah, I guess," I shrugged. "It wasn't great last week, but now I think it's all good."

"Are you worried about him?"

"Of course," I said immediately. "He's super hurt from what that asshole did- oops, sorry."

"Hey, I'm the only one in this room," she smiled. "I understand that this is an emotional time for you. Just don't be excessive with it."

"Oh, okay."

"Anyway - yes, I've been informed he has a skull fracture. He was supposed to meet with me next week, but his mom requested another week because of it," she said.

"Yeah. I'm really worried about him."

"I agree. But!" she chipped, "I've also been told he's going to be alright. Apparently having a certain someone around is really helping," she nodded, giving me a knowing look.

I smiled blushingly. "Well, I... um... I guess I'm helping."

Just then, there was a knocking on the door.

"That's probably Ms. Mansell," the counselor said. "Come in."

The door opened, revealing Ms. Mansell with an official-looking packet in her hand and a neutral expression on her face. She smiled slightly at me before moving a chair next to the counselor and sitting down.

"Hello, Clay," she greeted. "I believe we have about half an hour left of this period?"

"That is correct," the counselor affirmed, looking at the clock above the door.

Ms. Mansell nodded. "Alright. Now let's begin. While this is going to be an email for most families, we thought you should be told in more detail."

She paused, leaving me confused. "Huh? What are we talking about?"

After taking a moment to check her packet, she slid it over to me. "Essentially, Mrs. O'Perra has been fired, in large thanks to what you and George said."

"Really?"

"Really. Thanks to your help, we were able to find lots of reports about how truly awful she was. Before, we'd only get scattered emails that, while concerning, weren't enough to warrant anything like this, but now that we had a rapid collection of reports, this was an easy decision to make."

I looked at the packet she placed in front of me. It appeared to be an official letter from the principal himself directed towards Mrs. O'Perra. I was too lazy to read it, and I got the impression that it was more of a prop than anything anyway.

"I mean, I knew about that, but weren't you waiting until you had a replacement? Why are her classes just... cancelled?"

"That leads me into my second point. While keeping her until we found a replacement was the original idea, last Friday - we had a meeting soon after the incident - it was apparent that we couldn't wait," she said, looking bitter. "The reason we're stating in the email is 'wanting to bring students down,' but to be more specific, she explicitly wanted George to get expelled for no reason whatsoever outside of her 'personal beliefs'."

"What?" I exclaimed.

She nodded slowly. "Yes. She claimed he was the aggressor and practically blamed you and him for... well, doing certain things and claiming that it was his fault that the altercation even happened in the first place."

"Seems like Mrs. O'Perra," I sighed. 

Ms. Mansell nodded again. "Indeed. And while I agree George shouldn't have attacked Jack, if he hadn't, you very well could have ended up hospitalized. So, therefore, he's going to have-"

"Wait- No! Please don't punish George!" I pleaded. 

"I wish I could, but rules are rules. He, along with Dave and Wil, are just going to have a three-day suspension." Just as I was about to open my mouth to argue, she added, "George is technically on his right now because I'm not going to make him serve it after he recovers, and Dave and Wil are starting with theirs tomorrow, so I believe that they have been sufficiently punished."

"But George's college!" I argued. "I mean, there's no way he's gonna get into his first choices with a suspension in his record on top of the 2-week recovery."

Her frown turned into a slight smile. "Well... Don't tell the county board about this, but I listed it as 3 detentions. Still not great, but it's not going to make or break any high-class university he wants to get into."

"Oh... Thanks. I'll tell him."

"Don't mention it," she laughed. "Like I said, I couldn't _not_ punish them. Just know I truly believe they were in the right."

"Thank you."

"Now, back to Mrs. O'Perra - during that meeting, after she said that about George, I kicked her out and the principal prompted a discussion on her employment rather than the incident at hand," she stated. "We had already decided to go easy on them, but the punishment was left up to me."

"Ohhhh. So that's why you were so lenient?"

"Indeed."

There was a pause for a moment as I nodded thankfully. "Well, it was about time she got fired."

"I agree." She looked at the clock above the door. "But you don't have very much left of class now, so I suggest you make your way back so you're not late to fifth period. You'll be meeting with your counselor at this same time for the next 2 or 3 days while we help the replacement teacher with his curriculum."

"So wait, we're just... missing this class for a few days?"

"No. We will be having a standard substitute by tomorrow. Only you and the other students meeting with their counselor will be going during that time. We just decided to make today a study hall because midterms are coming up and we don't often have times set aside to study."

"Oh. Alright." I looked at her awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. I finally decided to turn to the counselor and say, "Um... I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."

"Thanks for coming, Clay. Sorry this took so long," she smiled, standing up to open the door for me.

The rest of the day was pretty great. At lunch, I told Bad about it and he practically jumped out of his seat - Zak had to make him sit down by stealing his glasses and pulling him into a tight hug.

Nick, too, was joyful at the news, but he rolled his eyes at Bad and Zak. "Okay, guys, save the celebratory lovemaking until after school. Or at least go to the bathroom if you have to do it now."

I spat out my water and started wheezing uncontrollably while a flustered Bad stuttered, "Nick- You can't say that!"

"Please. I've walked in on Clay and George in the school bathroom more than once. I can tell you guys do it too."

At this point, I was wheezing too hard to make a sound, and as I was leaning back in my chair, it suddenly fell backwards, so now I was on the floor, clutching my stomach, laughing so hard I couldn't breathe.

"See, Nick? You killed Clay. How irresponsible," Alex sighed dramatically, holding out a hand to help me up. I took a few deep breaths and accepted their help.

Soon enough, the end of lunch bell rang, and we made our way to the rest of class (although Bad and Zak were in the bathroom for a suspiciously long amount of time).

On the way to the last class of the day, I almost ran into Emily. Nick was beside me, but he quickly passed as Emily stopped to talk to me.

"Oh, um... Hi, Clay."

"Oh. Hello," I greeted.

"Look, um... sorry I was so rude in those texts. I didn't think about Jack having been responsible until what happened on Friday."

I didn't know what she was talking about since I never read her texts, but I figured she probably wrote something along the lines of "You should have looked after George more." Personally, I had no hard feelings against her, but there was definitely someone who deserved an apology from her.

"It's fine," I sighed. "I think you should apologize to Nick, though. He didn't deserve any of the shit the school gave him after you made it obvious that you dumped him."

She shook her head, frowning. "It's too late, I think. He's been ignoring me all weekend."

"Well, go talk to him right now." I nodded in his direction a few feet in front of us. "He's not too far away."

She thought for a short moment. "I guess I will. See you, Clay."

I watched her rush after Nick. I honestly didn't want them to get back together, but at least they could make up.

After a long day in class, I left the school building, realizing that I had nowhere to go since my car was at home. Then I remembered that I had a sister who can drive, so I walked over to her car and waited for her to leave the school building.

After what seemed like way too long, Cassie finally emerged. She was talking happily with a boy as she made her way out. When she saw me, she quickly mumbled something to her "friend", waved him goodbye, and ran over to me.

"Clay, what the fuck?" she scowled. "Why are you standing at my car?"

I felt the older brother in me come out. "I'm here because I don't have my car, but more importantly, do you have a _boyfriend_?"

"Oh shut up," she said, clearly flustered.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"I swear to God I'm going to run you over with this car if you don't shut up and get in," she growled, unlocking it for both of us.

I rarely rode with Cassie - it was really only on days when I went to school from George's house without my car and left school to my house, such as right now - but it was definitely a nicer ride. She had the newest car out of the three of us. It wasn't a supercar or anything, but her 2018 model was far nicer than my dad's 2006 Accord or my 2011 Crossover.

We were sitting at a stoplight when I crossed my legs and teased, "Y'know, he's kinda cute."

"I'm telling George you said that."

"Wait, no-" I wheezed. "If you do that, I'm telling Dad you have a boyfriend."

"Wh- you can't do that! Those things aren't even comparable," she snapped, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, you're right," I sighed dramatically. Her face lit up for a moment before I added, "I mean, the worst Dad's gonna do is give you a serious talk to be careful while George would probably die of a heart attack."

"Bruh."

She didn't speak to me for the rest of the ride. I took that as a victory and smiled smugly as we drove into our neighborhood and entered our driveway. As I entered my house, Patches ran up to me, looking for attention. I scooped her up and sat with her on the couch, scritching her head softly.

"I'm gonna be gone for a week or two. Sorry, baby," I cooed. She couldn't understand and simply relished in the amount of scritches I was giving her. After a few minutes, I placed her back on the floor and went upstairs to pack some clothes and my laptop into a grocery bag and headed downstairs, knocking on my dad's office door.

"Working," he said.

I winced. I always hated interrupting him, but I didn't really have a choice right now. "Sorry, but I just needed to tell you I'm gonna be living with George for a bit."

"I know, his mom told me. Make sure you get to school on time."

"Alright. Bye, Dad."

"Bye, Clay."

I walked past Cassie on my way out, who was on the couch concentrated on texting with someone. "That your boyfriend?" I teased.

"It's- um- Molly, yeah. You know, that one girl in my class."

"Oh, so you're dating her now?" I chuckled. "I knew she was bi, but-"

"Oh my God, Clay, please," she whined. "His name is Connor, okay? We've been together for... almost 3 months."

I felt a little pang of guilt - she seemed genuinely upset. "Oh. Well, good luck."

"Thanks," she scoffed. "And don't break George's bed."

"I- you know what, I can't complain, I've spent the last fifteen minutes embarrassing you. See you, Cas!"

"Bye, Clay."

Before exiting the room, I decided to add one more tease. "You know, I have a box of protection in my room should you ever need it."

"Leave right now or I'm throwing Patches at you."

"Fine, I'm going."

Still laughing, I left out the garage door and got into my car, putting my stuff in the trunk and pulling out of the driveway. I passed by all the houses and stores, though as I passed by the Publix I decided to make a stop for one thing in particular.

I ignored all the side glances I got from my face still being messed up and headed straight towards the flower bouquets. Like the cookies, there weren't any blue ones since it was currently the middle of autumn, so I just grabbed a combination of yellow roses, orange roses, and some other red-orange flowers I didn't know the name of, all topped off with a large white daisy.

After paying for that, I got back in my car and drove the rest of the way to my boyfriend's house. I had started to feel a little sad that I wasn't with him at school, so now that I was about to see him, I felt ecstatic. I parked in my usual spot across the road and knocked on the door, flowers and luggage in hand.

His dad opened the door for me, smiling. "Hey, Clay. How're you doing?"

"Pretty good," I nodded. "How's George?"

I placed my stuff on the counter to pet their cat as he responded, "He's holding up alright. I believe he's watching TV up in his room."

"Can I go see him?"

"Of course."

"Thank you." I made to go up to his room with his cat.

"Wait, don't forget your flowers," he said, nodding at the bouquet I had placed on the counter. "I'll bring a vase up for you later."

"Oh yeah. Thanks." After placing the cat back on the ground, I grabbed the flowers and clothes and made my way upstairs, my heart beating with excitement.

Then I opened the door.

George was watching the TV in a dazed state, his mind seemingly turned off. I looked over at the program and immediately recognized it as Mythbusters. As soon as he registered the door opening, though, he immediately looked over at me and grinned. "Clay!"

"Go!"

I dropped my bag on the ground and rushed over to him with the bouquet.

"Flowers, huh?" he chuckled as I placed them on his bedstand.

"Yeah," I laughed. "I know it's kinda random, but I wanted to get you something."

"They smell nice," he commented, taking a deep whiff. He nuzzled his head into the crook of my shoulder and smiled. "So do you."

"Glad you like them," I grinned, ignoring his second comment.

I lay down next to him. He brought his head into my chest, gripping my shirt tightly. He looked so adorable. I stroked his hair before placing my hand behind his head to secure him in place. Our legs wound together, his bare legs wrapping around my clothed ones. 

"I love you."

His voice was soft whisper, but I could feel the warmth coming from his words.

"I love you too."

He tried rolling me over, but he failed with a whine. I helped him the second time and he was now on top of me, hands flat on either side of me.

He gave me a look and a slight nod. I responded with a nod too and leaned up for a kiss, our lips melting together. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, the sensation filling me with joy. It made my heart feel fuzzy.

Suddenly, his phone's facetime rang. George fell over at the noise and I had to catch him to make sure he didn't bang his head on the wall. He scrambled for his phone and picked up the call, taking a seat facing me so the camera wouldn't see me.

"Hello?" a person on the other end said. It sounded like an old British woman, and that let me realize who it was - it was George's grandma.

"Georgie! Honey, oh my- Look at your face. I know your mom said it was bad, but now that I've seen it I'm gonna fly over there and introduce that boy to my cane."

"Wh- Gran!" George laughed.

I was wheezing in the background, probably a little too loudly as another person, this time an old man also with a British accent, commented, "Who's that?"

"Oh, it's Clay. Sorry, I'll-"

"Finally, the stars align for us to meet him! He lived with you for a year and you've been together for two, and we have yet to speak with him," his grandma commented. "Let me see him."

George turned to me with a questioning look, but I nodded. His grandparents (on his mom's side - his dad's parents were homophobic) seemed like cool people, so I was happy to talk to them. They called George's house every week, so I'm surprised I hadn't talked to them yet.

I scooched over next to George and leaned my head on his shoulder, getting a good look at both his grandparents. His grandmother had fluffy, short white hair that went in waves down to her neck with thin-rimmed, round glasses that were connected to her ears by two small chains. His grandfather, meanwhile, had a large bald spot that parted his short light gray hair and a small beard reminiscent of George's slow-growing chin fuzz.

"You too!" his grandma exclaimed when she saw my face. "Oh my Lord, if I ever get my hands on that boy-"

George sighed. "Gran, calm down. We've got everything planned out."

"You better. Anyway, hello Clay! Nice to meet you." Her tone shifted drastically saying the second part, making me crack a smile.

"Nice to meet you too," I nodded.

"You can call me Gran or Ruth, whatever you fancy," she said.

The man next to her seemed to catch on to the idea. "George calls me Pop, but my name is Tom if you prefer."

"Got it. Since we're talking about names, just so you know, my name isn't short for Clayton. It's just Clay."

They chuckled at that for a moment, George included.

"We'd love to be seeing you physically, but sadly, there happens to be an Atlantic Ocean between us," his grandfather sighed after a moment. "Right shame, really. George says you're over 6 feet tall, which means you're a solid foot taller than either of us. That'd be a sight to see."

"Almost a foot and a half taller than me," Gran chuckled. 

I laughed with them, saying, "So that's where George gets his shortness."

"I'm literally average height," George snapped playfully. I snaked an arm behind his back and squeezed him closer with a side hug. He returned the gesture, crossing his legs over mine.

"Anyway, George, you still thinking of coming over here for college?"

"I mean... I'm hoping I can. Cambridge is still my top choice. But I really don't know 'cause of some of my teachers."

"I'd quite like it if you could. We only see you in person every few years, so imagine how great it'd be to live with you for four or more."

"Yeah."

"Wait, George, that reminds me about something," I commented quietly to George, thinking about what happened to Mrs. O'Perra. "I'll tell you after the call."

"Oh, do you guys need to do something?" Pop asked. "We can call another time."

"No, it's fine. I want to keep talking to you guys," I assured them.

"I concur," Gran agreed. "It gets tiring to only know you through the praises of George."

"Gran!" George mumbled, blushing.

Our conversation continued for a solid half hour until they finally hung up. George clicked off his phone and snuggled up closer to me, sighing. He was gripping my shirt tightly with a tired look in his beautiful eyes.

"What was that thing you wanted to tell me about?" he said, yawning. 

I grinned. "Mrs. O'Perra finally got fired."

George seemed stunned for a moment. "Wait, she's completely gone?"

"Yep. They decided that they just couldn't wait anymore for a sub and just kicked her out."

"That's amazing!" His smile turned into a slight frown, adding, "But..."

I held him tighter against my chest. "What's wrong?"

"I got told that I was suspended for 3 days. I'm really worried about getting into any decent college at this point, let alone someplace like Cambridge."

"Ms. Mansell said she listed it as 3 detentions." I squeezed him tighter, comforting him.

"Really? Holy shit, she's amazing. But there's one other thing - what about all the bad grades and stuff? That bitch probably brought my GPA down a whole half a point."

"Well, you have a 3.8 now - that's still really good."

"Yeah, thanks to you," he smiled. "I would have already dropped out if you didn't help me."

"Shhh." I pet his hair softly, still holding his head close. There was silence for a while as we enjoyed each other's presence, the TV still on pause. Realizing that, I reached for the remote and turned it back on, entrancing myself in the bizarreness of the show. George closed his legs in closer to his body and put them under my open arms so I was now carrying his entire small frame on my lap, both of us watching Mythbusters. I kissed the top of his head softly.

After a while of sitting like that, George asked, "Hey, um, Clay?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you, um... take your shirt off?"

"Oh. Why?"

"It feels a bit scratchy," he mumbled blushingly. "B-But you don't have to if you don't want to."

"Nah, it's fine."

I let go of him briefly before reaching down and tossing off my shirt, now sitting in George's bed in only jeans and socks. I thought about jokingly taking those off, too, but that would require disturbing my beloved Gogy.

He nuzzled his head in between my pecs again, taking a deep breath and smiling. "Have I ever told you that I'm the luckiest boy in the world?"

"That's not possible," I responded.

"Oh?" he smiled knowingly. "And why's that?"

"Because I'm the luckiest boy in the world."

He cracked a smile. "You're such a dork, Clay."

I giggled goofily with him for a while before we both calmed down for a moment to admire the other. His forehead was still bandaged and made his disheveled bangs look even more out of place, so I tenderly reached out and brushed them away, resting my hand under his chin. He brought a hand to my face and stroked my cheek with his thumb, being gentle as to not press down on the bruises. 

"Do you wanna lay down together?"

"Yeah."

I slid down on his bed until my head was resting on his pillow. George himself was laying somewhat on top of me, but he rolled over until he was face to face with me, a loving expression in his eyes.

"I missed this," I said, placing my hand over his heart. Hearing it beat gave me a feeling of existential joy. I was so immeasurably happy to be with George and both of us being alive and safe right now that I couldn't put it into words.

"Me too," he sighed, snuggling even further up to me.

He was very clearly getting drowsy, so I settled on a position to lay in as to not disturb him while still being able to watch the TV. He was tightly locking his arms around my chest when he began dozing off. 

"I love you so, so much," I whispered, stroking his brown hair.

"I love you too, Clay."


	20. Epilogue

I don't think anything could beat the feeling of being wrapped up in bed with George's arms around me while rain slashes the windows from outside. Not only was I given warmth from being bundled up in the blankets, but George's warm body next to mine also offered solace against the cooler temperatures brought on by the rain.

I slowly opened my eyes, blinking. Patches was curled up at our feet, looking scared of the storm. I turned over and pat the blanket closer to my lap, causing her to look up and prance towards my chest. Even if it was only Christmas Eve, this was probably the best gift I could ever get.

With the small weight now on me, I turned my head to admire George's sleeping face. He was clearly fast asleep, and for good reason, too - we were up really late last night watching animated movies from our childhood together with Patches. I fell asleep on him after maybe the second or third one, but I'd guess George stayed up for at least two more. 

Right now, he had a slight smile on his face, which in turn made me grin goofily. I brought a hand from Patches's back to cup his cheek, stroking his cheekbone with my thumb. He still remained sleeping. 

Over the past 6 weeks, George had made a significant upturn. His face was fully healed, although a few pale scars slashed across his face. His hands, too, were fully healed, although they didn't have any scars. 

Outside of the physical recovery, the legal case was very open and shut with all the evidence. After the school genuinely confirmed the blackmail, not only did the phone itself become evidence and taken out of Jack's possession with the video staying not deleted until the case was over, but with all of the evidence and testimonies, not even Jack's family's expensive attorney could evade it. George won the case and gained retribution for the medical bills on top of an incredible 30,000 dollars. There was a hitch in the case with George having been a minor while I wasn't in Jack's recording, but George was so old anyway and they had no reason to suspect there was any coercion or pressure between us. But as for Jack himself, well...

He got expelled and sentenced to time in juvenile detention. And, despite my hatred towards him, I couldn't help but feel a little worried. After all, it was obvious he needed help, and based on what he told me before the fight, it wasn't his fault - most of his actions traced back to his parents' behavior. I'm probably qualified to know what it's like to have horrible homophobic parents, though Jack's seemed more lowkey about it. I hope that those facilities do give actual professional help to their tenants who need them, and I especially hope that it's enough for him.

George hummed quietly, seemingly beginning to wake up. I ruffled his hair gently, causing him to bring his hand up to mine and grab it, bring them both back down to our waists with our fingers weaving together naturally. 

"Good morning, sunshine," I greeted as thunder roared ironically overhead.

"'Mornin', bubs," he responded groggily, giving me a light kiss on the neck.

I snuggled closer to him, my head resting in his hair. Patches had squished herself between the two of our chests, so I couldn't get much closer than this. I didn't mind, though. 

"What time even is it? It's too stormy," he yawned after a while. I felt him shift his head, presumably to look at my alarm clock. "Wow, it's 10 AM."

"Mmm, I've woken up later," I dismissed. "Let's keep cuddling."

He chuckled softly, moving his head back and gently poking me on the nose. I grinned and leaned forward, kissing him softly on the cheek. He returned the favor and we both lay back, smiling stupidly at each other.

"Kiss?" he asked. 

"Ew, no, go brush your teeth."

Giggling, I placed my hand flat on his chest and pushed him gently. While I wasn't exactly impartial to morning breath kisses, today I felt like teasing him. He rolled his eyes and got up, taking off his shirt and heading to the bathroom, presumably to go brush his teeth. I stretched my arms and placed Patches on the bed before getting up to do the same.

I also stripped my shirt and dashed off to the bathroom, taking the sink next to George to brush my teeth. Once we were both done brushing our teeth, we immediately reached out both our hands towards each other. My left hand raised his right above our heads while my right hand brought his left down to our waists. 

I smirked. "Now, about that kiss..."

We moved our other hands to our waists and leaned in for a passionate kiss. My eyes were closed, as were his. 

We broke apart for a moment as I brought him back to my room, quickly resuming our kissing on the bed. George clambered on top of me like he likes to do and kneeled on either side of me. He leaned down for another kiss, tenderly cupping my cheek as I leaned up to meet his lips. Finally, after what could have been nearly 10 minutes, we broke apart. He lowered himself down on me and nuzzled his head into the crook of my neck affectionately. 

"I love you, Clay."

I stroked his hair softly. "I love you more, George."

The weight of his body on top of me almost made me want to sleep again, so I checked my alarm clock to see if I could. Sadly, it was getting late in the morning - it was nearly 11. "We should really go downstairs."

"But you're so comfy," he whined, tightly winding his arms around me.

"We can cuddle more later, but I'm really hungry and I think your dad's making pancakes."

George's family was spending Christmas with mine because neither of us had any better plans and, in George's mom's words, "thought that we might as well spend some time together, seeing how you and George are practically a married couple in all but the ring." While the original plan was for them to come over only on Christmas Day, the storm ended up being so bad there were even more last-minute plans for them to stay over a few nights.

"Fiiiine," he sighed, unwrapping himself from me. Patches meowed adorably before being scared by more thunder clapping outside. George reached down to pick up his shirt, but then I remembered something.

"Wait, our sweaters!"

"Oh- Yeah!" he agreed.

George and I had gotten matching Christmas sweaters about a week ago. They were black with white text reading "Ho Ho Ho Homo" and some festive designs around it, including rainbow stripes. I definitely do not regret them, especially compared to that "Straight Outta The Closet" shirt.

He dashed over to my bedstand to grab a sweater and I followed him, both of us rummaging around for our sweaters. As I tossed off my shirt and replaced it with the sweater, I noticed it felt a little odd. It was really unbreathable and a little scratchy, leading me to only one conclusion.

"Hey, George, I think we might have-" I turned around mid-sentence, my words stopping when I saw George in a very oversized sweater, looking at me with a confused expression on his face. The sleeves reached all the way to nearly the tips of his fingers while the bottom reached well down his thighs and almost to his knees. He looked, to put it bluntly, absolutely adorable. "Oh my God, you're so cute!"

He blushed pink at the compliment, but quickly clapped back with, "Meanwhile my sweater makes _you_ look like you're in the middle of a midlife crisis."

I rolled my eyes, scoffing. "Well, I was gonna let you keep my sweater, but since you said that, you're getting this one back."

"Wh- But I thought you said I looked cute!"

"I did, and you still are cute, but I am not looking like I'm 'having a midlife crisis' in front of both our families."

I looked at him expectantly. When he didn't start taking it off, I started to reach out for the sweater and pull it over his head for him. George wrapped his arms tight into himself to prevent that, so I started tickling him under his arms. This immediately worked as he started laughing delightfully, his arms reaching out to stop mine. I used this opening to pull his sweater up, but since his arms weren't above his head, I ended just pulling him by his shirt and we both crashed onto my bed, giggling loudly.

"Fine, you can have it," he sighed dramatically after calming down, beginning to pull the sweater over his head. "But I'm stealing more of your hoodies and stuff as soon as Christmas is over."

I chuckled. "I think I'd be happy to see that."

We finally swapped our sweaters and made our way downstairs, the rain still falling hard outside. I grabbed his hand, giving him a look. He nodded in consent and returned the handholding as we finished going down the festively-decorated stairs, Patches prancing closely behind.

The overwhelming smell of something being baked hit us as we turned toward the kitchen. George's dad fussed over some chocolate chip pancakes at the oven while my dad was making coffee. Cassie sat in the corner, playing with both Patches and George's cat. Patches was now sporting a Christmas sweater of her own, a cute knitted red piece with a Christmas tree on it that Cassie got for her. Someone's phone was connected to a handheld speaker, playing Christmas music.

"Morning, lovebirds," George's mom greeted from the table as she saw us holding hands. "Love the sweaters."

"Thanks," George grinned. "The pancakes smell good, Dad."

"Thank you," his dad said. "Take a seat and I'll give you some."

George and I took a seat at the kitchen counter while George's dad piled some of the pancakes on two plates and placed them in front of us. We started eating, our hands held together on the table as we did. The pancakes were great - George's dad was an amazing baker.

Once we had finished (with Cassie joining us halfway through), my dad offered everyone some hot cocoa. We had a fancy machine that made piping hot cocoa, and it was with that my dad made 4 cups - two for George and me, one for Cassie, and one for George's mom. The four of us left for the couch, taking small sips of our drinks. My boyfriend bundled up his and my legs using a large blanket.

"It's really coming down out there," George's mom commented. "I wouldn't be surprised if the power went out soon."

"We have a backup generator, we'll be fine," Cassie said, taking a long gulp from her mug.

"I hope it is. Sometimes it doesn't work and I'm the one who's forced to go out there and restart the damn thing," I complained.

"It's 'cause you're heavier," she joked. "You won't blow away."

"Hey, it's all muscle," I retorted, making George grin mischievously. He pulled the blanket up higher so he could sneak his hands under my shirt, causing me to giggle blushingly. His hands were shockingly cold, but since he was so close, I couldn't recoil, causing me to laugh more. Cassie and George's mom seemed to both know what was going on, though only the latter was smiling slightly.

"That reminds me," my dad said. "What's Connor doing for Christmas, Cassie?"

She mumbled blushingly. "Oh, um... Basically the same thing we are. Just some family stuff."

"Good, good."

After a while, George finally removed his hands from under my sweater, allowing me to finally take a gulp from my hot cocoa. It had gotten a little cool, so I just downed the rest of it. Leaning my head on George's shoulder, I asked him, "You wanna go watch some movies?"

He grinned. "Sure."

"Have fun, you two," George's mom said.

He downed the rest of his drink and I put the mugs in the dishwasher. Together, we started to go upstairs. On the way, we acquired both cats, Patches being carried in my arms with George's cat simply following on his own.

My boyfriend and I flopped onto my bed with our two cats. While both cats started harassing me for attention, George reached for the remote and turned on my TV. 

"Whatcha wanna watch?" he asked, petting the gray cat on my lap.

I placed my hand on his, squeezing it gently. "Hm... I'm feeling like Disney. Like last night."

"What about Mulan?" he suggested after a while. "The old one, obviously."

"Fine by me."

After some more button pressing, we started the movie. George and I snuggled closer as the opening played. I was excited - while I didn't exactly grow up on old Disney movies, my dad really liked the older ones and he'd show them on occasion to Cassie and me.

George's hand rested on top of mine as we watched the animation. It was a small motion of comfort; even if the movie wasn't particularly emotional, I still felt warm at his actions.

Before long, the movie was over. George kissed me on the cheek softly and asked, "Wanna sit closer together?"

"Yes please."

He nodded, scooching closer to the middle of the bed and patting the mattress in front of him. Picking up the cats, I crawled between his open legs and let him wrap his arms under mine, leaning back into his thin frame.

We finally got settled into watching the movie in this new position. George tossed the blanket over us both with the cats sitting on our legs on top of it. I felt him rest his head on top of mine as started picking out the next movie.

Our movie time was cut short when the lights suddenly faded off and the TV zapped black, followed by a loud clap of thunder. Spooked, Patches leaped from the bed and, in a panic, ran headfirst into the door with a quiet thud.

"Shit- Patches!" I called, rushing over to let her out of the door. She sprinted out and quickly turned to go down the stairs. George's cat followed shortly after, leaving George and me alone in my dark room.

I slowly closed the door and tackled George into my bed, pressing our foreheads together. We gave each other a simultaneous look for consent before meeting for a passionate kiss, our lips melting together. We spent quite a while like that, probably more than a few minutes.

Without any interior background noise to cover it, the rain sounded really loud. It drowned out any of the steps or speaking that our families made. My first thought seemed to coincide with George's. 

"We're all alone, y'know," George whispered suggestively.

We suddenly both became much more touchy, running our hands along everywhere we could reach while continuing to kiss passionately.

"Are you okay with this?" I asked, gently tugging at his shirt.

"Yes," he breathed, reaching a hand down to help me strip his sweater.

Soon enough, both of us were in our underwear. I pushed him onto the bed and trailed a hand from his cheek down to his waist, resting my hand on the hem of his underpants. I gave him one more questioning look for his consent, but he nodded enthusiastically.

Instead of immediately going for it, though, I slowly slid back up the bed, running my lips along his smooth skin. My lips moved back up to his collarbone to give it some more attention before I began planting kisses around his pecs, down his abs, near his waist. He whimpered softly, grabbing and squeezing my hand for comfort. When I finally got to his underwear, my breath hitched in my chest as I began to tug them down-

Suddenly, the door cracked open.

"Mom!" George squeaked, swiftly throwing a blanket over us both and blushing furiously. The blanket fell over me, hiding me from view. I didn't want to come out, instead choosing to wrap myself around George defensively like an octopus. 

"Clay," George's mom said sternly. Looks like I wasn't getting out of this one. 

I reluctantly slinked up the bed next to George and tried to hide behind him, shame covering my face.

The woman at the door had swung it all the way open by now and looked at both of us in disbelief. She definitely wasn't disgusted, but I didn't think she was amused, either. After blinking a few times, she sighed, "Look, I'm not going to judge you for deciding to this while you're alone and relatively isolated, but please, there are other people in the house. Including your 16-year-old sister. I hardly think it's appropriate."

I peeked out from behind George, nodding shakily. I was unable to form words because of my sheer embarrassment.

"Now, ordinarily I'd let you two go and pretend as if I'd never seen anything, but Clay, I came up to request that you go fix the generator because your dad thinks the power's gonna be out for a while."

"Okay," I mumbled, still half hiding behind my equally flustered boyfriend.

"I-I'll go with him," George stuttered suddenly. "I-If he's okay with it, an-anyway."

She nodded slowly. "That's fine. Don't take too long."

My boyfriend and I just stared at each other for a moment before our eyes flicked away. We shamefully got up and put our clothes back on, not saying a word to each other.

As we passed by our families sitting in the dim light of the window, George's mom had a knowing look on her face. I sped up my pace past her, silently walking with George toward the garage. I had to break the silence when I went to grab my forest green windbreaker.

"So... um... you sure you want to come with?"

"Yeah," he said. "I'll just borrow Cassie's jacket."

"Okay."

He grabbed my sister's bright blue and gray raincoat and I held his hand, leading him out through the garage door. I could hear the rain hitting the roof, and as soon as we got outside, it immediately began slashing us, drowning out either of our voices and blurring the neighbors' Christmas decorations. Trees swayed in the wind that was also pushing the rain sideways. I sprinted down the driveway and into the backyard, dragging George along behind me.

"Holy fuck it's cold!" he exclaimed, trying to match my pace.

"Yeah, really!" I agreed, panting.

We soon arrived at the generator, which was behind my dad's greenhouse. I crouched down and fumbled for the pull cord. I pulled it twice in rhythm and, with help from my beloved on the last tug, managed to get the generator roaring with power.

Thunder roared overhead once again. Taking this as our cue to leave, we sprinted back towards the garage and back inside the house, our shoes sloshing and soaked. After removing our equipment, we walked into the now relit living room.

"Thanks, guys," George's mom said happily, seeming as if she hadn't walked on her son only seconds away from getting head a few minutes earlier.

Unfortunately for me, the event was still fresh in my mind. Blush still splotched over my cheeks while my heart was still thumping hard. "Y-Yeah, no problem."

"What's wrong?" my dad asked. "You seem flustered."

"Uh... just ran a lot, probably," I dismissed.

"Ah, I see," he nodded. "Well, you'd better stay and have something to drink."

"O-Okay," I agreed, avoiding further suspicion. 

I quickly decided to just have a glass of chocolate milk, George joining me as we downed our cups as fast as possible. We then both had the idea to retreat to my room to avoid any more awkward questions. I snuggled up against him once more and we simply continued watching the movie without saying a word to each other. Luckily, the awkward air slowly receded, and I soon laid my head on his shoulder in comfort. He snaked his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in closer for a side hug.

After a while, the main power came back on, indicated by a quick flicker of the lights and TV. It also made my alarm clock turn back on, showing that it was now past 4 PM. We were already at the end of another movie, so that meant that we had time for one more movie before dinner.

To make it count, we picked a gay live-action movie as opposed to another animated one. It was rated R with sexual content, but it's not like George and I were too pure for a gay sex scene.

Even outside of the R-rated stuff, it was a bit of a sad movie with lots of homophobia. George and I cuddled even closer, silently being thankful to have each other and be in an environment mostly free of that stuff now. Still, the scars slashing across his beautiful face remind me that there are those kinds of people in the world.

As soon as the movie was over, George hugged me tightly. "I love you so much, you know that?"

"I do." I placed my hand on his, squeezing it gently. "I love you so much too."

We held each other close for a few minutes, everything quiet but our soft breathing. Sadly, I knew that we were supposed to help with dinner, so I begrudgingly shook George out of his drowsiness and led him downstairs.

Dinner prep was easy with all 6 people working on it and we were soon all set to eat. Naturally, George and I sat next to each other with Cassie on my other side while the parents all sat opposite. The meal itself was good, but since it was Christmas Eve, it wasn't exactly a feast, either.

After a nice dessert, the parents started getting ready to go out. George's mom addressed me specifically when she said, "We're gonna go to mass. Don't mess around, alright?"

"Got it," I mumbled, being reminded of the event once again.

Once they had all left, Cassie retreated to her room and called her boyfriend. George and I quietly entered my room and George plopped onto the bed, making grabby hands at me. I almost jumped into his arms instinctually, but something else lingered more on my mind.

"Just a sec," I said, fishing it out of the closet. George tilted his head curiously as I carefully hid the item from view.

It was a small, square box with a velvety texture. My heart was thumping and my cheeks were flushed. George was making grabby hands at me again, looking a little sad that I wasn't with him yet. But I knew it would all be worth it in the end.

"George, I, um... I have something for you."

He looked at the box curiously.

"A-And it's kinda something, like, I don't really want you opening tomorrow because it's a little bit personal."

I opened it up and presented it to George. He gasped and put his hands over his mouth.

"Clay..."

He picked up the golden locket from inside the box and admired it. "It's... beautiful. Clay, how much..?"

"Don't worry about it. Now open it up," I cooed.

He obliged, popping open the small heart revealing a picture of both of us cuddled up in bed together. In it, both of us were shirtless, and George's arm was tossed around me as he spooned me. Our eyes were closed and our mouths slightly opened, really showing that we were asleep. But what topped it off was a little inscription on the other side of the locket reading "Forever my beloved Gogy."

"I was wondering what to put, so I asked your mom for help. She had this picture, and..." I trailed off, shrugging. "Well, I thought it was perfect, anyway."

"It _is_ perfect, Clay." He tossed his arms around me, feeling around for my hand that I was hiding behind my back so he could grab it. When he reached it, he grinned.

"You got another?" he said giddily. "So we can match?"

I nodded happily, presenting the other locket to him. 

He snatched it out of my hand excitedly. "Does yours have an inscription?"

I smiled, shaking my head. "No. But it's fine, this is a gift from me to you anyway."

"Someday I'll get yours inscribed," he promised. "But for now..."

He raised the locket necklace around my head and carefully lowered it, tucking it under my shirt. It rested directly on my heart.

"Here, give me yours," I said, wanting to do the same for him. He obliged and lowered his head so I could adorn him with the golden gift.

Finally, we both had them on. George hugged me tight and brought us to a lying down position, placing the box on the ground next to us as we stared at the ceiling, hand in hand.

"Clay, can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"It might sound a little naive, considering we're barely 18... but I really do have a feeling that you're the one. I just can't imagine anyone else who I want to spend the rest of my life with."

I bit my tongue. Just that sentence was making me emotional, and yet George wasn't done.

"Someday, we're gonna get married. We can get a kid or two, if you want."

A tear or two formed in my eyes, my emotions overwhelming me. Maybe to someone with worse experiences than I could have seen those as empty words, but just like him, I have a feeling he's not wrong.

"And maybe one day, 100 years from now, we'll die. But I know I'll be with you."

That sentence finally broke me. I choked out a little happy sob and rolled over to face George. He immediately looked over at me and brushed my tears away. "What's wrong?"

"I'm just... really happy to be here with you. I love you so, so, so much."

He smiled, tears almost in his eyes too.

"I love you so, so much more, Clay."


End file.
